


A Hard Ten: Wishverse

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Series: A Hard Ten Series [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mentions of PTSD, Past Rape/Non-con, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-10-10 18:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17431529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Y/n finds herself back in 2018, having never made the choice that ruined her life. She makes the other choice, calls the other number, and sets herself up to change the future.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~This time things were gonna be different. Even if you couldn’t get Dean to want you, even if you never spoke to him again, you could get yourself out of the hole you put yourself in because of Sam… and maybe you could get Adam safe, somehow. Even if nothing came from the blank slate except the opportunity to completely distance yourself from the Winchester family after Thanksgiving, to treat them like a chapter in your book that needed to be edited down to almost nothing… if all that came of this wish was one good weekend with Dean and remembering what could’ve been for the rest of your life, you’d be okay with that.You wanted Dean, of course, and you were going to use the knowledge of the man gained from six months of alternate timeline friendship to get his attention, but if that didn’t work… at least you weren’t stuck with Sam’s cheating junkie ass. You could move on.





	1. Turn Left

You bit your lip and picked up your cell phone. “Hello?” **  
**

“Hey, this is Dean. Is this… y/n?” A little gasp escaped your throat. It was him. It was him and he didn’t know you and holy shit, how’d this even happen?

“Yes, I am.”

“I got your message and you’re in luck: I’m free that week. But since that’s a multi-day event you’re asking for and you’re a new client, we’re gonna have to meet up, make sure you even  _like_ me enough to spend a weekend pretending to be head over heels for me, then we can do details and shit. You busy tomorrow?”

You blinked. You weren’t sure what you were doing tomorrow. Your tomorrow was almost eight months in the future… but you knew you were free at 2 PM because that’s when you met with Sam at Starbucks. “Not for lunch, I’m not. Why don’t we meet up at Biggerson’s on Cedar Ave, discuss terms over a couple slices of pie? 2 PM?”

“Oh, you said the magic word, sweetheart. I’m  _definitely_ into grabbing pie. 2 PM. See ya then.”

“Okay, bye,” you said, telling yourself you were going to earn back ‘princess’ and turning the cell off. You brought up the news. November 2, 2018. You shook your head in amazement. How the hell had this happened? “Charlie!”

The small redhead padded out of her room and into the living room. “So, who’d you pick? I was gonna get you a date with, uh, Dean. Or Sam.”

“Charlie.”

“Yeah?”

“What is today’s date?”

“Uh, the second all day, why?”

You shook your head. “This is unbelievable,” you whispered.

“What is? That you just hired a hooker? I know! It’s completely out of character for-”

“Char, do you believe in magic?” you interrupted.

She turned to you, fully, her eyebrows raised. “Is this you telling me you’re a witch and the Wizarding World is real, because I’m gonna be honest, I don’t think I would take that too well, mostly because I never got my Ilvermorny letter and if magic is real and I ended up a muggle, I’d be so disappointed.”

You shook your head. “ _I_  can’t do magic, but I think I’ve had magic done  _for_ me.” You took a deep breath. “When I got up this morning, it was Sunday June 30,  _2019_. At the end of the day, I made a wish to change things and suddenly it’s last year.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I mean… I’m  _X-Files_ , but it’s kinda farfetched, sweetie.”

You sighed, then smiled as you remembered something. “On Monday, this coming Monday, Roman stock is gonna go through the roof… like a hundred twenty points.. you’re going to get an email saying that all supervisors are getting a percentage bonus because of it. It’s gonna come out to a nice, even $1337. You’re going to make a leet joke because you can’t help it, then you’re going to say something about how you have been internetting for far too long. After that, I want you to call me, okay?”

“Wow. You’re really serious about this.” Her eyes were confused and intrigued and a little bit scared. “What happened in 2019 to make you wish yourself back?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about that until you really believe me, Char.”

“Okay, well, can we talk about how Wish universes never work out? ‘Be careful what you wish for’ is, like, one of the most overused tropes in fantasy fiction.”

“Okay, true. Counterpoint: that’s usually some powerful entity trying to teach the protagonist a lesson, to be happy with what they’ve got, and I honestly can’t think of a single way this wish could make my life  _worse_.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” You gave a tight smile. “But I can fix it. I turned right last time, but this time I turned left. Like I should have the first time.”

“Is that a  _Doctor Who_  reference?”

“Of course it is.”

“Wait.” Charlie’s eyes fell on her laptop. “Is this about the hookers?”

“Escorts, and yes. I’ll explain everything on Monday.”

“Okay? Well… who’d you pick?”

“I picked Dean this time.”

“And your first time?”

“Sam.”

“Oh, with the monster cock!” You flinched at her words. “You okay?” she asked, worried.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine this time.” You smiled, tightly, and took a deep breath. Charlie studied your face and you could tell she was warring between her rational brain telling her that you  _had_ to be fucking with her, and the nine years of friendship telling her that you just weren’t that good of an actor. You grabbed your phone and headed toward your bedroom. “Don’t worry about it, Char. Just forget it ‘til Monday.”

Your face in your mirror caught your attention as you passed your dresser. The vision of you before Sam, before the twenty-five pounds of stress-induced weight loss, before the sunken eyes from the insomnia, before the loss of yourself… it made you realize just how bad things had gotten.

But this time? This time things were gonna be different. Even if you couldn’t get Dean to want you, even if you never spoke to him again, you could get yourself out of the hole you put yourself in because of Sam… and maybe you could get Adam safe, somehow. Even if nothing came from the blank slate except the opportunity to completely distance yourself from the Winchester family after Thanksgiving, to treat them like a chapter in your book that needed to be edited down to almost nothing… if all that came of this wish was one good weekend with Dean and remembering what could’ve been for the rest of your life, you’d be okay with that.

You wanted Dean, of course, and you were going to use the knowledge of the man gained from six months of alternate timeline friendship to get his attention, but if that didn’t work… at least you weren’t stuck with Sam’s cheating junkie ass. You could move on.

As you lied down to sleep, a knock came to the door. “Hey. How do the midterm elections turn out?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, yeah. That’s in a couple days,” you whispered. “Dems take the House, Republicans keep the Senate. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez gets the vote and becomes the youngest woman elected to Congress. Two Muslim women tie for first Muslim congresswomen, Colorado elects the first openly gay governor. The… oh, what’s her name? You were really excited about… uh, Sharice Davids?”

Charlie squealed and slammed open your door. “Kansas elects a Native American lesbian?!”

You chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, and there’s gonna be another pointless recount in Florida that turns into a meme with the ‘What year is this?’ scene from Jumanji.”

“That’s… very specific.” Charlie eyed you suspiciously and back out of your room.

“And Beto O’Rourke loses!”

“You’re crazy! He’s got all kinds of celebrity support!”

“Guess we’ll see on Tuesday!” you called across the apartment. You got comfortable in your bed and looked up at your ceiling. A blank slate. Eight months of knowing what’s coming. A chance to fix everything, to change everything. “Tabula Rasa,” you whispered, closing your eyes.


	2. How'd You Know?

You slept through the night. You’d almost forgotten what it felt like. You showered and put on light makeup. You didn’t need makeup. Your skin quality was actually amazing compared to the skin on the face you left in 2019 and Dean was going to smile that lovely smile at you, no matter what. You made breakfast for you and Charlie and ate in silence as she watched you. “How’s  _Bohemian Rhapsody_  do at the box office?” she finally asked.

“It did all right. Does all right. Sixty-something percent on Rottentomatoes. It was just too broad. Like, it was awesome, I really liked how they portrayed Mary Austin and Freddie, but it was just… they were trying to fit too much into two hours, you know? I liked it, though, and Rami Malek got a Golden Globe for it.”

“ _Crimes of Grindelwald_?”

You grimaced. “You’re gonna watch it no matter what I say.”

“Yeah, but I wanna  _know_!” she exclaimed, leaning closer.

You sighed. “She fucked with the canon, or  _they_ fucked with her canon and she let them. JK really should have put her foot down and said, ‘No, Nagini was a fuckin’ snake, not a Korean animagus’. The only  _really_ good part of it was Jude Law as Dumbledore, though, they really didn’t even allude to the fact that he was in love with Grindelwald.”

“Yeah, but we knew that Warner Brothers wasn’t going to let… they didn’t let him be gay, at  _all_?” she asked, upset.

“I mean, Warner Brothers pretty much said that it wasn’t important to his character and the movie was really about Newt, anyway, so it wasn’t that important.” You sighed. “Anyway,  _Crimes of Grindelwald_  did good because it was a Harry Potter movie, but, objectively,  _Bohemian Rhapsody_ was a better movie.”

She smiled. “If this is real… I’m gonna need you to remember some lotto numbers.”

“Charlie, if you wanted money, we both know you have the skills to get it.” You shrugged. “You know I don’t play the lotto. I won’t remember any of the megamillions numbers.”

“Okay, well… try.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “I’m going out at 1:30.”

“To meet the whore?”

“Yeah, to meet… to meet with Dean.”

“And Dean is the better one, right?”

“Charlie… just stop, okay? You still don’t really believe me.” You sighed. “Dean’s the one who’s gonna take me to Maw-maw’s for Thanksgiving. That’s all you need to know for now, okay?”

“What, I’m not allowed to be worried about you?”

“You can be worried all you want, but…” You shrugged. “Everything’s fine, Charlie. I promise.”

You could tell that she didn’t believe you. She didn’t think you were fine, she didn’t think that everything was going to be fine or  _was_ fine, but you knew. You knew that there was only good that could come of your wish, no matter what she or anyone else thought about wish universes.

~~~~~~~~~~

You  _heard_ the Impala before you saw it. Dean’s prized Chevy with the huge engine announced his arrival in the Biggerson’s parking lot and you ordered a round of pie before he walked in. Your phone went off with a text from Dean’s work number asking where you were in the restaurant and you shot a text back telling him where to find you. You took a deep breath as the bell over the door went ‘ _ding_ ’ and your eyes shot to him. He was wearing his brown hiking boots with a grey tee and a red and blue checkered plaid under a dark blue canvas coat. He looked like heaven as he approached.

“Hey. I’m Dean.”

“I know,” you responded, immediately, before looking down. “I-I mean… of course you are. Why else would a guy who looks like you walk up to my table?” You gestured at the other side of the table, reminding yourself that Dean wouldn’t want you if you were flustered and blushy. Not the introvert you were before Sam got a hold of you. You had to be the you that you were with Charlie, the you you were when you met Dean. “Have a seat. I, uh, ordered you a slice of apple. I hope you don’t mind.”

He smirked as he took the seat across the table from you. “You’re the take charge type, then?”

You chuckled. “I like to think of it as being proactive. I mean, I am just trying to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“Hey, I got no problems with a woman who knows what she wants and makes it happen,” he said as the server dropped a slice of apple pie in front of each of you. “So, this is your first time hiring from  _Bobby’s Boys_. You ever done this kinda thing before?” He pulled a fork out of the wrapped up napkin and dug it into the pie crust.

“Loaded question, Dean,” you answered, honestly, mimicking his motions. “Suffice it to say, I know what I’m doing.”

He nodded, not questioning you further about your experience. “All right, so… you said, Thanksgiving weekend; you just need someone to give you the boyfriend experience?”

“Pretty much boils down to my extended family are terrible people who’ve spent the last several years of my life making me feel horrible for being the only one in the family who’s bigger than a size six and I thought I might be able to avoid some of their suppressive bullshit if I brought a very attractive man home for the holiday.”

“All right. Family can suck. I got that. So, I, uh, got this questionnaire for you to fill out. First part’s a bunch of information ‘bout you, like if you got any allergies and what you do for work, best friend’s name, religious beliefs and shit. The second part’s about the fake me. Where you want me to say I work, how we should say we met, all that.” He pulled the papers out of his coat pocket where they had become a crinkled mess, and smoothed it out against the table. “If you want to fill it out now, that’d be awesome. So we could go over anything that’s problematic.”

You pulled a pen and immediately went to work on it. You’d filled this out before, so it wasn’t something you were nervous about. You talked about your answers as you wrote them and Dean nodded, making little comments around mouthfuls of pie and black coffee. “We’re gonna tell ‘em you’re a mechanic, is that okay?”

He licked his lips and nodded. “I’m  _great_ with cars. How’d you know?”

You smiled and looked up into his brilliant green eyes. “With a car like the one you rode in on, you either know your way around an engine or you’ve got a damn fine mechanic, yourself.”

His eyes sparkled as he smiled, brightly. “You know about cars?”

You shrugged. “Little bit. My old best friend taught me some stuff. Enough to know a classic Impala when I see one, anyway.” You suppressed the urge to smirk at his look of intrigue as you looked back down at the questionnaire. “And since we’re saying you’re a mechanic, we can say we met when my clutch started slipping.”

“You drive an automatic or a manual?”

“Currently, I drive an auto but that’s just because Ford didn’t have the car I wanted in a manual.”

“Not a lot of folks can drive a stick, anymore.”

“Oh, I’m great at driving a stick,” you let yourself smirk then and looked up at him through your eyelashes. He returned the smirk and chuckled. You had to remind yourself that you weren’t throwing yourself at him, that if you made this about sex, then you’d just be a normal client and you’d lose all chance of being something more. “Too bad that’s not what I’m hiring you for,” you finished, dropping your eyes back to the paper.

“Yeah. Too bad.”

When you finished the questionnaires, you slid them across the table and excused yourself to go pay the bill. When Dean approached the counter, you handed him a small styrofoam container. “Chocolate cream pie,” you winked as you started toward the parking lot.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, following you.

“Well, I got it for myself and then I thought better of it. I do  _not_ need more pie.” You stopped in front of the Impala, blatantly ogling it as you walked a slow circle around the edge of it. Dean smirked at the look on your face as he opened the door and set the to-go box in the middle of the bench seat. “What is she? A ‘67, ‘68?”

“‘67.”

“She still got the 327 four barrel?”

Shock filled Dean’s face and his jaw hung slack for a second before he licked his lips. “No, uh… I put a 502 big block in her a few months ago. More than doubled her horsepower.”

“Oh,  _that’s_ why she’s so loud.” You ran your over the roof and looked in the window. “You treat her like a queen, don’t you? This is what a classic car’s supposed to look like.”

“Huh. You, uh, know a  _little bit_ about cars?”

You chuckled, making your way around the hood to stand in front of Dean, looking up into his eyes. “My friend, the one who taught me about cars, he was a Chevy-head. Honestly, I’ve always been a Ford fan, but he was really enthusiastic and… fuck, the sixties Impalas were sex on wheels.”

“Sometimes literally.” His eyebrows jumped up suggestively and you bit your lip, stepping closer to him without conscious thought. He smiled, softly. “There’s… somethin’ ‘bout you, y/n. I’m lookin’ forward to workin’ with you.”

“Technically, you’ll be working  _for_  me,” you teased, leaning back against the door of the Impala and smiling up at him.

He stepped closer, licked his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit into it. It made your body warm up and you swallowed to remedy your suddenly dry throat. “Well, then…” He put his hands on your shoulders and leaned down to look into your eyes. The look in his eyes was one you recognized and your heart was pounding at the thought that your plan to woo him was working so well. “I can’t wait to meet your family, princess.”

Your reaction to the nickname was instant, grabbing his coat and pressing your lips to his. He went with it, just like he had the night of the Christmas party, but this time he had no reason to pull away. One of his hands slid down to your hip and the other buried in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the cold metal of his car. You ran your hands up to his neck and pulled him closer, your tongue brushing across his, dancing across the air you were breathing together.

You didn’t want to stop, but your brain suddenly remembered that you didn’t want to sleep with him, yet. Well, you  _wanted_ to, but you had to wait. With every ounce of your self-control, you pulled back, breathing heavily. You looked at your feet. “Sorry. Didn’t, uh, plan that.” You chuckled and bit your lip. “So, how much do I owe you for the makeout session?”

He laughed and stepped back. “It’s on the house. We’ll call it payment for the pie.” You smiled and nodded, side-stepping away from him to head for your car. “I’ll call you after I talk to Bobby!” he called after you.

“Sounds good, Dean!” you called back, sliding into your driver’s seat and pulling out of the parking lot. You didn’t miss the way he followed you with his eyes until he couldn’t see you anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sam, it’s like… have you ever met a chick that just… ticks  _all_ the boxes?” Dean was trying to refrain from a chick-flick moment, but how he was feeling about y/n after just one meeting was… unique. Sam looked up from the paperwork he was filling out for Bobby with an incredulous look. “Dude, she bought me pie. No prompting,  _she_ suggested pie.” Dean nodded enthusiastically and dropped into a chair next to Sam’s desk. “And she knows cars. She tried to downplay it, but she knew that a ‘67 Impala comes stock with a 327 four barrel engine. That’s not something somebody just knows unless they  _know_. She practically drooled all over my baby, dude, and she’s  _real_ pretty. Way prettier than she thinks she is.”

He let out a dreamy sigh and ran his hand through his hair. “It’s like she knows me. She’s kinda… perfect, and she’s an amazing kisser! A lot of chicks are afraid to go for it, but she was… fucking  _exuberant_.”

“That’s a big word, Dean,” Sam said, amused.

Dean shrugged. “I’ve been working on that book of crosswords Kate gave me for my birthday.”

“I was sure you would’ve thrown that away.”

“Nah. I’m getting pretty okay at ‘em. Anyway, this chick… she’s amazing and I get to spend an entire weekend with her, for work. I mean, if this ain’t the best part of the job, I don’t know what is.”

“The money is the best part of the job, Dean. It’s the only  _real_ reason for the job.”

“For you, maybe. Oh, man, and she doesn’t  _want_ to pay for sex. She really just wants to have me pretend to be her boyfriend without gettin’ fucked.”

“But she let you kiss her?”

“Nah,  _she_ kissed me… but I’m pretty sure she just got overwhelmed by my charm,” he said, with a cocky smile. “Seriously, what kind of woman calls up an escort service and really  _just_ wants someone to escort her somewhere?”

“One who’s too introverted to get her own dates? Or women who think they aren’t very attractive?”

“Yeah, probably something like that. She said she wouldn’t feel right paying for it. So, she’s got morals but she doesn’t make me feel immoral. I don’t know how that works, but it fuckin’ does.”

“Well, I’m happy for you, Dean. You get to get out of Kate’s tofu Thanksgiving because you’re going on a job and you get a boatload of money  _and_ you don’t even have to perform. You just have to fawn over the woman. You’re doing that for  _free_ , right now.”

“I know, Sammy! This is gonna be the easiest three thousand bucks I’ve ever made!”

Sam took a deep breath and looked pointedly at his paperwork. “Good for you. Can I finish this please?”

Dean rolled his eyes and stood. “Yeah, yeah.” He sighed and licked his lips. “You gonna be okay doing Thanksgiving without me, huh?”

Sam nodded. “I’ll have Dad and Kate  _and_ Adam to distract me, Dean. And I’ve totally been clean long enough to deal with other people drinking some dinner wine, dude. Don’t worry about it.”

“And you’ll call And-”

“I’ll call Andy if I have any issues. Don’t worry about it. Go enjoy yourself with the… woman who ticks all your boxes,” Sam dismissed.

Dean couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face at the thought of y/n. “You know what, little brother? I definitely will. Have fun with your paperwork.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday came and the stock app on your phone alerted you to the massive jump in Roman Industries stock price. It was a little past 1pm when Charlie called you. “Are you a witch?!”

“No, Char, I  _told_ you I’m-” You closed the door to your office to keep your assistant, Deedee, from hearing your conversation.

“You have to tell me if you have a timeturner because there’s so much that I would want to fix, but that probably wouldn’t be a good idea because ‘Awful things happen to wizards who meddle with time, Harry’ and I-”

“Charlie, I didn’t do this.”

“Are you sure you’re not some kind of fae or elf or something because-”

“Charlie!”

There was a moment of silence. “I’m sorry. I’m just… sorry.”

“I’m not a fairy or an elf or a witch, and the awful things already happened, but I  _am_ here with a plan to save Buckbeak and Sirius, so to speak.”

“What awful things? What happened that you wished away?”

You took a deep breath, relief washing over you. “You believe me? Like, no doubts, anymore?”

“No! No doubts. Okay? I believe you and I’m kinda jealous of your fantasy fiction life right now, but I’m also super worried because you’re not the kind of person to wish away a whole freaking timeline, so it must’ve been superbad, so spill!”

You shook your head. “Look, it’s eight months of baggage to unpack, and I’m not doing it over the phone while you’re on your lunch break. I’ll tell you all about it when you get home tonight, okay?”

She sighed, heavily. “Okay, I guess.”

“Go eat your lunch. Love ya, Char. Bye.” You hung up your phone and smiled. You were finally going to be able to talk to someone about your situation!

You walked into the apartment at 5:23 and sat down on the couch. You were having to redo work you did eight months ago and it was wearing on you. Charlie walked in the door at 5:46, set her laptop bag on the table by the door and flopped down next to you, pulling the remote control out of your hand and turning off the distraction of the television.

“Tell me  _everything_. Go!”


	3. I Insist

**Warnings** : mentions ofprostitution, mentions of PTSD, mentions of past sexual assault,  **18+ HERE BE SEX DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!,** fingering, protected sex, Impala sex

* * *

You were three hours into your explanation, a half-eaten pizza and three empty beer bottles on the table in front of you as you nursed your second bottle. Charlie blinked at you as you took a drink and cleared your throat. “So, Dean came out and found me in my car. I cried in his arms for a few minutes, I don’t know how long, and I… I was so…” You wiped at your eyes for what felt like the thousandth time and shook your head. “He told me that I could be… that I could be with any man I wanted and I told him I was broken and I couldn’t even keep Sam happy, so who’d want me and… and then I wished that I could go back and pick Dean instead of Sam and here I was. One minute I’m in the car, the next I’m sitting right here and it’s eight months in the past and none of it happened.”

You’d gone through everything slowly, so your best friend wasn’t overwhelmed, she was just incredibly pissed off. “I can’t believe him! I threatened to cut his junk off and he  _still_  fucked you over?!”

You scoffed, which rolled into a breathy chuckle, which morphed into a full-bellied laugh. “That’s the first thing you come up with? I just told you-” You covered your face with your hands and muffled your laughter a bit.

“I’m sorry, I’m just super frakin’ pissed about this whole situation, except the wish sending you back, that’s so cool, but-” She shook her head, exasperated, as you pulled your hands away and looked across the couch at her. “-he raped you, you stayed (which I think was a stupid decision on your part), practically  _lived_ for the guy for six fucking months and  _still_ he cheated on you?! He took this gorgeous, amazing, brilliant chick sitting in front of me and turned her into a Post Traumatic Stress Mess and that’s not okay and-”

“Char, do you need a hug?”

“ _You_ need a hug,” she responded, leaning forward to wrap her skinny arms around your shoulders. She sat back and sighed deeply. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

“Plan?”

“Revenge, obvi!”

You shook your head. “No revenge. Sam doesn’t even know me in this timeline, Charlie!”

“But he  _will_! If you end up with Dean, that’ll make Sam your brother-in-law, eventually. Do you think you could deal with-”

“Yes,” you interrupted, sharply. “First off, Dean’s really not the marrying type, I’ll be lucky if he stops working as an escort, ever. I mean his dad is… old and still working. They’ve got really good genes. Second, I have learned that I can deal with a hell of a lot over the last six- the six months that shall never be. If I could deal with dating Sam and everything that came with that… then I could deal with this. I will deal with this.”

“But he cheated on you! He raped you! He-”

“Not anymore, Charlie. As soon as I dialed into Dean’s voicemail, the other timeline ceased to exist. Which I’m good with because I feel like that was Abed’s Darkest Timeline anyway, so good fuckin’ riddance.” You picked your beer up and took a drink.

“Okay, but it happened for  _you_. You’ve got Post Traumatic Stress. That’s not going away now that you’re the only one who remembers the event.”

“True… and though I, um, am doing much better here… I haven’t had a panic attack since the wish-”

“You did have a screaming nightmare last night,” Charlie interrupted.

“Let me finish.” You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Though I’m doing better, I’m taking AU-you’s advice and I set up an appointment with a Cognitive Behavioral Therapist who specializes in sexual assault victims. I see her in a week.”

“Oh. Okay, good.” Charlie took a deep breath as she tried to think of what to say. “So, how’d your meeting with now-Dean go?” she asked, her eyes sparkling. “Do you think he’s interested? Do you think it’ll work?”

“He’s definitely interested, but the hard part’s gonna be keeping my hands to myself long enough for him to see me as something more than a client.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard. I mean, he’s-”

“You don’t understand, Char. He makes me feel safe and happy and I repressed my feeling for him for far too long because they were in direct conflict with my relationship with Sam and now that I have no reason to hold back, I don’t know if I  _can_.”

“Of course you can. You’re freakin’ Supergirl! You’re Wonder Woman!” Charlie gasped dramatically, and slapped your shoulder. “Bitch, you’re the warrior princess! Hard life, bad times, you shouldered that shit  _and_ carried Hercules’ dumb ass across the finish line! You can totally Aphrodite the man-whore!”

You laughed, loudly and without reservations, at Charlie’s seamless move from DC comics to Xena in her enthusiastic support, and reached out to pull her against your chest in a hug. “I love you, Charlie. You’re the best best friend a time-traveller could ask for.”

“I’m so jealous you can cross ‘time travel’ off of your bucket list,” she muttered into your shoulder.

“Don’t be jealous. It was a one time trip backward. The Delorean’s busted. I can’t go anywhere but forward at the normal pace.”

“Still, though…” She pulled back and gave a confused look. “What do you think did it? Like, who’s your Blue Fairy?”

“I don’t know. It was just me and Dean in the car when it happened,” you said, standing and starting to clean up the mess on the table. “It wasn’t the stroke of midnight on a new year, or 11:11 and I wasn’t in front of a Zoltar machine. I just… I don’t know, Charlie.” You walked toward the kitchen and the redhead followed.

“You didn’t make a deal with the Devil or some other demonic entity?”

You snorted, dropping your bottles in the recycling bin. “Nope. I would remember signing a contract with Mephisto. And no, I didn’t make the wish at a crossroads,” you said, anticipating her next line of questioning. “No eyelashes, no birthday candles, no wishbones or falling stars. I don’t have any fuckin’ clue. All I know is I’m here. I’m here and I know what’s coming and if I play my cards right…” You turned to her with a hopeful smile. “I can save a nineteen year old kid with his whole life ahead of him from being brain-dead in a coma and I can save myself from being… destroyed.”

Charlie dropped the leftover pizza into a gallon ziplock bag and nodded. “Well, then… whatever you need to be your hero, I’m here for you, y/n.”

You smiled and took a nice deep breath. “That’s all I need, Char. Thanks.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean barely heard his phone over the sound of his shower and the Van Halen song he was singing under his breath as he washed his hair. When the tinking notes of his ringtone pierced through the curtain of steam, he rushed to turn the water off and step out of the shower, wiping his hands on the bathrobe hanging next to the door and grabbing the phone off of the sink counter. He smiled a megawatt smile when he saw ‘y/n (Princess)’ on the caller ID. “Good morning, Princess. You get that bill I sent you?” He put the phone on speaker and set it back on the counter.

“Good morning, Dean. Yes, I did,” she responded. “That’s, actually, what I’m calling you about.”

He sat on the edge of his bathtub, kicking his long, bowed legs out to get comfortable. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m cool with all the charges, but there’s a $200 discount applied at the end, which I wasn’t expecting. Not complaining about saving a bit of money, but I don’t understand the code next to it. What does ‘LMC’ stand for?”

Dean smirked. “Oh, that’s the ‘Likes My Car’ discount. Wanted to make it bigger but Bobby wouldn’t let me.”

“Oh, so everyone gets that discount, then?”

“No, just you, sweetheart.”

“Is this because I knew about the mighty mouse engine, because I told you, that’s secondhand knowledge.”

Dean had to bite his lip to hold back a groan at the fact that she knew the 327’s nickname, too. The woman had a habit of revving him up and immediately acting like she didn’t have any intention of revving anything. “Most knowledge is secondhand, y/n, and it’s awesome that you gave enough of a damn to remember it, so… don’t complain.”

She gave a soft chuckle that warmed Dean’s heart. “Oh, okay. I promise not to complain about saving money.”

“That'a'girl.” He licked his lips and leaned closer to the phone. “So, I was thinking, we really wanna sell your family on us bein’ a couple, we should hang a few times before we head out.”

There was a short moment of silence that filled Dean with an unfamiliar feeling of doubt, before she responded with, “I guess that makes sense.  What did you have in mind?”

“Burgers. I was thinking the Maillard. Some beer, some food, learn a bit more about each other. What'cha think?”

She laughed. “I haven’t been to the Maillard, yet, but Charlie loves the place! That sounds fucking awesome, Dean.”

“Awesome. What’s today, Thursday?”

“It’s Wednesday. I thought  _I_  was scatterbrained.”

“Whatever. You free Friday night or not?”

“Let’s see… my best friend spends her Fridays at Sidetrack trying to get a chick to take her home, so I spend my Fridays watching  _Live PD_  on A&E. I am most definitely free on Friday night.”

Dean gave a small fist pump and nodded excitedly. “Awesome. Uh, pick you up at 7?”

“Sounds, uh,  _awesome_. I’ll text you my address. See you Friday, Dean.”

“See you then, Princess.” He leaned forward, disconnected the call and smiled at himself in the mirror. He twisted around and jumped into his shower, grabbing the showerhead to keep himself steady when he slipped. “Tone it down, Winchester. Calm yourself.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You look amazing, okay? Seriously… don’t stress,” Charlie said from the doorway as you fussed with your hair.

“This is almost a date… with Dean. I’m not stressed, I’m anxious,” you responded. “This doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard, does it?” You looked down at yourself. A long black skirt that accentuated your ass and hips before dropping into a flowing wave of black material, a light red cold-shoulder blouse, just enough makeup to highlight your features and elegant dangling earrings.

“You are the antithesis of trying too hard. You’re wearing biker boots, bitch. You look great. Stop it.”

You looked at your watch. 6:54pm. “He’s gonna be here any minute.”

“He the type to be on time?”

“Only when he’s excited about a thing.”

“So, now would be the time to go check if that big black muscle car you described is waiting in the parking lot?” Charlie asked, rushing to the living room before you had an opportunity to answer. She’d barely left your sight before a knock came to the door. “Hi! You must be Dean!”

Your eyes went wide and you gave yourself another look in the mirror before you left your room and walked into the living room. “Dean, this is Charlie. Charlie, Dean.”

Dean was smiling down at Charlie, but his lips shifted when his eyes fell on you. It morphed from his generic ‘I’m enjoying this moment’ smile, to his special ‘I’m genuinely happy’ smile. “You ready?” he asked.

“Yeah. Kinda excited to get a chance to see the inside of that car.”

“Excited to show her to you.” His left eyelid came down in a quick wink as he nodded toward the parking lot.

“Have fun, you crazy kids!” Charlie shouted as you and Dean walked out of the apartment.

Sliding into the passenger seat of the Impala was like going home again. It was comfortable, smelled like Dean and leather, and it made you smile to see that he’d definitely detailed it in anticipation of your night out. He pulled a cassette from the glove box and popped it into the cassette player. You smiled as ‘Houses of the Holy’ started to play. You nodded to the music and looked out the windshield. “ _Physical Graffiti_ or  _Remasters_?” you asked, nonchalantly, like you didn’t know the question was going to drive him nuts.

A strangled groan was barely heard over the music. “ _Graffiti_. I’ve got  _Remasters_ on vinyl at my apartment, though. You like Zeppelin?”

“Who doesn’t?” you responded, picking up halfway through the first verse. “ _From the door comes Satan’s daughter and it only goes to show_.” Dean joined in on the ‘You know’.

The parking lot behind Maillard was dark, no lights in the fenced-in lot. Dean threw a worried glance at the Impala as you walked toward the tavern. “I’m worried about this parking lot,” he admitted, quietly.

“It’s free parking in downtown, Dean, it’s gonna seem shady. Don’t worry though. I’ll protect you.”

“Oh, really? My hero. I feel safer already.” He chuckled and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “But no, I’m just worried about my car. It’s so dark back there.”

“She’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

“Well, if you say so. Let’s go have a burger.” You sat at a table in a back corner and each ordered beer and a bacon cheeseburger with fries cooked in duck fat. “So, I saw you had a bunch of those bigheaded vinyl figures on the shelves in your living room. How big of a nerd are you?”

“That’s an unfair question.”

“I didn’t mean to offend y-”

“I didn’t say it was offensive. I said it was  _unfair_. It supposes that nerdery can be quantified and it can’t.”

Dean laughed. “So the answer is ‘a really fucking big nerd’, then?”

“Definitely. What, you don’t have any stuff you nerd over?” you asked, knowing he was, in fact, a much bigger nerd than he let on.

“I mean, yeah. I nerd out over my car, obviously. I have a borderline obsessive love for Led Zeppelin. I can quote the entire  _Princess Bride_  script from memory without the movie playing to pace me, complete with Savage’s lines. Oh, and I will geek the hell out over some horror flicks.”

“Really?” you smiled and leaned forward. “Freddy or Jason?”

“Jason, mainly because Freddy talks too damn much. I mean, there’s nothin’ wrong with a well-thought-out horror movie pun, but that’s literally all of Freddy’s lines.”

“Yeah, but it was pretty awesome when Johnny Depp got eaten by his bed.”

“Yes! I mean I’m not sayin’ that  _Nightmare on Elm Street_  doesn’t have some awesome deaths. The first and third ones are full of awesome eighties horror movie shit-”

“I loved  _Dream Warriors_! Lucid dreaming as a weapon against Freddy? Sign me up!”

“Did you watch  _Freddy vs Jason_?”

“Not a big fan. Did you know they did a comic book that was Freddy vs Jason vs Ash from the  _Evil Dead_? Ash won but of course they did the whole the end question mark thing.”

“I fucking love the  _Evil Dead_  movies! Bruce Campbell is an icon!”

“I know! I refused the remake. It doesn’t exist.”

“What remake?”

“Exactly!” You laughed loudly.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The dinner was full of easy conversations, some you’d had in the other life, but some new and no less effortless than the others. Dessert was milkshakes and at some point during the two of you sucking ice cream through a straw, Dean reached over and took your hand in his. It was an amazingly simple gesture that made you indescribably happy.

Dean paid for dinner. Even when you were friends, he never paid for more than his own dinners. His hand found yours again as you walked back toward the dark parking lot. “You nervous about the dark parking lot, Dean?” you teased.

“Nope. Just wanna touch you.”

You gasped at his words. “That’s…” He unlocked the Impala and opened the door for you. You slid into the front bench seat and pulled your skirt out of the way as he closed the door.

Dean climbed in behind the steering wheel and turned to you. “Well, look at this. My baby’s safe. You were right.”

“It happens, sometimes,” you responded with a smile, waiting for him to put the keys in the ignition and take you home, but he didn’t. He slipped his keys in his coat pocket and slid closer to you. You swallowed as he looked down into your eyes.

“Dark parking lot’s good for one thing, at least,” he said, his voice dropping several octaves to rumble straight down to your core.

“Oh? Wha-what’s that?”

“No one to see us making out like teenagers.” He brought his hand up to caress your face and leaned in closer. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout kissin’ you again since Biggerson’s.”

“But-”

“You wanted to kiss me then, princess. Don’t tell me that’s changed.” You whined, but couldn’t speak as he leaned forward more and pressed his lips to yours. You leaned into him, pressing hard into his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck. He easily pulled you into his lap, his hands cupping your ass as he licked into your mouth. You did your best not to grind against him, but with the way you were straddling his lap, it was too tempting. His hands slipped up from your ass to slide under your blouse, making you both moan when his fingertips came into contact with your skin. His left hand pressed into the flesh of your back, pulling you closer as his right hand pushed the red material up and out of his way.

He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in your breasts, lavishing them with sloppy open-mouthed kisses over the thin cotton of your bra. You moaned his name and ground down into his lap and the hard lump of flesh there, needing the friction, needing something to help with the tingling heat threatening to burn you up. He pulled back from your breast, letting your shirt fall back into place as he looked into your eyes. You were both breathing heavily, an unasked question in the air of the Impala.

“Fuck it!” Dean growled, reaching over to pull the lever that reclined the seat back. He fell backward with an ‘oof’ sound and reached forward to pull you in for a kiss, making you drape over his body. His left hand snaked under your skirt, finding your panty-covered slit with the ease of a man who’d had his hands up thousands of women’s skirts. You gasped against his mouth as his fingers slipped under your underwear and between your pussy lips. “Fuck, so wet, princess.”

“Dean, please,” you whined.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” Words failed you as his first finger slid into your entrance. “Come on, y/n. What do you need?” Your hands grasped at his shoulders as he started to work his finger in and out of you, his thumb sweeping gently across your clit making you bite your lip. “You need to cum?”

“Yes,” you whispered, panting against his mouth and rolling your hips in time with the motions of his hand.

He smirked. “You wanna cum on my hand or can we see if you can take my cock in this tight pussy?”

You whimpered, pulling back slightly. Looking down at him with his lust-blown pupils, feeling him stroking the walls inside of you with two fingers now, all you wanted was to know exactly how he felt inside of you. “Condom?”

“Glove box,” he answered with a smile, pulling his hand away from you and popping the button on his jeans as you leaned back to open the glove compartment. He had his zipper down, jeans and boxer-briefs halfway down his thighs before you turned back with the foil packet in hand. You swallowed, jaw hanging slack as your eyes fell on his cock. It wasn’t quite as long as Sam’s (the website had listed it at 10 inches) but it was thicker and it was hard as stone, pulsing with each beat of his heart. “You okay, there, y/n?”

You nodded, handing the condom to him. As he ripped the foil open, you couldn’t resist wrapping your hand around the base of him, making him groan and squeeze his eyes tightly shut. “You okay, there, Dean?” you whispered, running your fingers up to the tip.

He pulled your hand away and rolled the latex down his shaft as you pulled your skirt up so that you could both see what he was doing as he hooked his fingers in your panties and yanked them to the side. He slid the tip of his cock along your slit, making you gasp when it rubbed against your clit. “Ready?” You nodded and he notched the head of his dick against your entrance. He grabbed your hips and held you still as he slowly impaled you on his cock. Your fingers curled in his shirt, knuckles going white as you lost yourself in the painful pleasure of him stretching you inch by inch until he was completely sheathed inside of you. “Holy fuck,” he growled as you let your skirt drop down to conceal where your bodies were connected and leaned forward to press your lips to his. He buried his hand in your hair, focusing on the kiss while you adjusted around him.

You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth and nibbled on it, loving when his cock twitched inside you as you did. You started to move before you really should have, but you just wanted to hear him groan, wanted to feel the delicious drag of him in and out of you, so you raised yourself up off of him a little and rolled your hips back down. “Fuck, Dean. You’re so big.”

“Never get tired of hearin’ that.” He chuckled as he started to thrust up into you. It wasn’t long before the Impala was completely steamed up, the air in the car thick with the smell of sex and the sounds of moans and groans. “Fuck, y/n. I’m gettin’ close. You almost there, princess?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes, Dean.”

His hand went under your skirt, again, his thumb pressing hard into your clit. You screamed as you came, fingernails digging into his shoulders through his shirt. He hissed as the walls of your cunt fluttered around him and he thrust deep into you as he spilled into the condom. You were both breathing heavily for a few moments, neither moving due to your over-sensitive parts. You looked down at him, regret settling into your mind as you used your hands on his chest as leverage to lift yourself off of him and drop to the seat beside him.

You didn’t want to sleep with him, yet. This was a mistake. You were never going to be anything more than a client now. Dean dropped the condom out the window and pulled his pants and boxers up as you straightened your clothes and hair, tucking his junk back into his boxer buttoning his jeans. You picked your purse up from where it fell to the floorboard and pulled out your wallet. “How much do I owe you?” You said it quietly, not looking at him as he grabbed hold of back of the seat and clicked it back into place.

“Nothin’.”

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” You still didn’t look at him. “I insist on paying you for-”

“It was  _my_ idea to come out tonight, princess. It was my idea to fuck. I’ve been wanting you since we met. Why would I expect you to pay me for it?” He reached out and gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You thought I set this up to get more cash outta you, or something?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t think…”

“I wanted this.” He leaned closer. “Not for cash. I’ve got plenty of money. You-you just… You’re fuckin’ awesome, y/n, and I like bein’ around you and you are an amazing lay, so you don’t owe me anything, okay?”

You swallowed, then scoffed, smiling. Guess it wasn’t such a mistake, after all. “Okay.”

“Let’s get you home before that little ginger ninja you live with sends the flying monkeys after us.” He pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss before pulling his keys out of his pocket and turning the engine over.

He walked you to the door, smiling down at you. “I had a lot of fun, Dean.”

“Me, too.” His tone was so sincere that it sent a chill down your spine. “We’ll have to do it again before Thanksgiving.”

“For research purposes or-”

“Is that what it’ll take to get you to say ‘yes’?” He smirked. “No, I just wanna take you out again. Maybe go see a movie or somethin’.”

Your cheeks heated up and you looked down. “Yeah, okay. We’ll have to set it up. Text me?”

“I’ll call. I prefer to hear your voice.” He winked, pressing a kiss to your cheek before practically bouncing down the steps to his car.

You waved at him and pulled out your keys, heading into your apartment. “So?! How’d it go?” Charlie immediately jumped up from the couch to grab your hand and pull you to sit with her.

“It went very well. We’re gonna… we had a great night. I think it’s working. I think I’m getting somewhere with him.”

“You think this, because?” she asked, eyes wide and expectant.

“Because we had sex in the front seat of his car and he didn’t want me to pay for it, even though I tried to insist?”

“Yay!” Charlie wrapped her arms around you and squeezed. “And you were cool with it? Like there wasn’t any panic stuff with it?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Apparently, Sam didn’t ruin me for all men.” You smiled. “Or maybe what I feel for Dean is so pure that it overtakes the PTSD.”

“PTSS, sweetie. It’s a syndrome, not a disorder.”

“Dunno. Always felt like a disorder, to me. Anyway, I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah, I bet you are,” Charlie teased as you headed for your room.

You got showered, changed and ready for bed, slipping under your comforter. Your phone went off as you settled into the pillow and you swiped it off of the side table. **Good nite princess Sweet dreams**

You smiled and sent him a text back.  **Good night, Dean.**  You set the phone back on the side table and closed your eyes for a night of restful sleep.


	4. Somethin' 'bout You

**Warnings** : mentions ofprostitution, mentions of PTSD, mentions of past sexual assault,  **18+ HERE BE SEX DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!,** oral (fem rec), protected sex

* * *

“So, have any of y’all ever turned a client into a girlfriend?” Dean asked, bring a beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip.

“Are you daft?” Fergus practically spat the words across Dean’s living room.

“It’s generally considered to be a bad idea to mix business with personal life, Dean,” Castiel reminded softly.

“Are you still on about the chick who hired you for Thanksgiving? Would’ve thought you’d be over her by now. It’s been two weeks,” Sam dropped into the recliner nearest Dean’s television and turned to his brother. “So she bought you pie and she knows cars. So? If you want to have a girlfriend, Dean, why don’t you pick one up from a bar and lie to ‘em about your job like you did with Lisa.” There was judgment in Sam’s words. He’d never approved of Dean lying to the woman.

Dean licked his lips and sat forward, eyes narrowing at his brother’s mention of his last failed relationship. “First off, you don’t have a right to judge  _any_ of my life choices, Sam, not after the shit-filled creek I pulled you out of last year.” Sam’s eyes cast downward. “Besides, you’ve never even met y/n. I’m sure you’d love her, too, dude. She’s exactly the kind of ‘Argue over which Starfleet Captain is best’ kinda nerd you’d hang with.”

“Picard,” Sam responded, taking a drink of his soda.

“Kirk,” Fergus argued.

“Kathryn Janeway was obviously the superior Captain,” Cas chimed in.

Dean smirked. “I really wanna say ‘Archer’ just to see your faces, but no. You’re all wrong. The answer’s Chris Pine’s Kirk.”

“What?! Shatner’s a bloody icon!” Fergus shouted.

“He’s also an overacting douchebag. The best things about the original series are Uhura and McCoy and no, Sam, I’m not sayin’ that just ‘cause Nichelle Nichols was hot. Anyway, point is, she’d fit right in with this conversation. She’d probably pull out some random-ass Star Trek trivia like Captain Harriman or something. She’s amazing and I think, once I fulfill my contract, you guys might be seeing her around.”

“ _If_ this amazing chick wants to date a guy who she knows is gonna be fucking other women  _all_ the time. Dean,  _most_ women wouldn’t be okay with that.” Sam adjusted himself in the recliner.

“Kate is okay with-”

“Kate is an exception, Dean. I hate to dash your hopes but… Sam is right. This woman, as amazing as she is, may not want to be romantically attached to an escort.”

“Did Cas just agree with me?” Sam’s eyes went wide, a smirk playing on his lips. “Mark it on the calendar!”

“I agree with you when you are right. It won’t happen again, I’m sure.”

Dean looked down at the beer in his hand, bottom lip between his teeth, chewing softly. “Yeah, no, I’m gonna try anyway,” he said after a few minutes. He took a drink and shrugged. “Worst she could say is ‘no’.”

“I think we’re all going to enjoy watching you fall on your face with this woman. Now can we play, please?” Fergus complained, picking up the Xbox controller from his lap and shaking it at Dean.

“All right. Someone’s excited to lose FIFA again. Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You watched as the bright green golf ball bounced off the far wall and rolled gently into the hole. “How do you  _do_ that, Dean? I have an amazing grasp of angles and I know my basic physics, but how do you hole-in-one almost  _every_ freaking shot?” you complained with a groan.

“Oh, yeah, little miss architect thinks she can science the mini-golf,” Dean teased. “Your stance is shit, y/n. That’s why you have trouble, princess. Come on. Let me help you.” He moved around behind you and ran his hands down your arms to cover your hands, coaxing your body where he felt it needed to be. “You gotta envision your line, right? Where you want that ball to go. You line your feet up with that line, ball lined up with the inside of your left foot and don’t look down at the ball. Look along your imaginary line.”

Your lips came together in a tight line as his hands moved to rest on your hips. “I, uh-”

“Swing, y/n.”

You let out a breath and swung the club, hitting the purple ball, which hit the far wall, bounced off and rolled into the hole with Dean’s. “Wow.”

“Good job!” Dean said, coming around to get the golf balls out of the hole. “So, tomorrow we head out West. I get to meet your family.”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, walking with him to the next hole.

“You haven’t really told me much about them, ‘cept that they suck.”

“You wanna know about my suck family that’ll be there when we get there tomorrow? Okay. We’ll start with my sister, Carol, five years my senior. She’s a slutty hairstylist who wears too much makeup who married a contractor named Ted who’s so shady he can’t even get work in Atkinson, anymore, and he has to do all of his work in Peoria. They have a son, Ted Jr., who is a huge fuckin’ idiot at fourteen years old and, apparently, sniffs glue.”

“Oh, great. That’s smart. Kill those brain cells early.”

“Yeah. Uh, then there’s Maw-maw, my grandmother. She’s pretty cool. She only ever gives me shit about my weight, but I think it’s mostly just because of, like, health reasons and I’m pretty healthy for a fat chick.”

“Don’t say that,” Dean said, dropping his ball at the next tee. “You’re not fat.”

You chuckled. “Well, I’m not thin, Dean. Look, I’ve got no problems with admitting it. I’m fat, but I’m okay with it… except from, like, November to February because my family always messes with me so hard.” You shrugged and sighed. “Anyway, Maw-maw’s great. I should probably warn you that she lives in, practically, a mansion. Paw-paw used to own a coal mine, so… my family’s got a lot of money. Uh, my mom and dad are… they try really hard, but they’re, you know, they’re parents and they want me to live my life the way they want me to live it, so they’re overbearing and… anyway, uh, then there’s Aunt Marlene and Uncle Charles, who’ve been living off of Maw-maw for their whole marriage. Like, Charles always comes in with these ‘Get Rich Quick’ schemes and Marlene always convinces Maw-maw to invest in them. It’s kinda terrible.”

Dean swung the club and you stepped up to the tee as his ball rolled away toward the hole. “Stan is my uncle and he’s… four times divorced and his last wife was fresh out of high school and I’m pretty sure he picked her up at the mall, probably at, like,  _Victoria’s Secret_  or something. She was this whiney, gold-digging, terrible chick who fit in way too well with the rest of the family.”

“Uh-huh, and what’s Uncle Stan do for a living? He mooch off’a his mom, too?”

“Nope. He runs a chain of liquor stores across four counties, from Madison to Shelby,” you answered, lining your feet up like Dean had showed you and standing up straight. “His last wife wasn’t even old enough to drink.” You rolled your eyes.

“There gonna be a lot of people there?”

“Not really. A couple of the extended cousins will show up for turkey but they won’t hang around for anything beyond that.”

“Well, it’s bigger than  _my_ family’s Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah. Who’s usually at yours?”

“Just me, my brothers, my dad and stepmom.”

“That sounds nice. Sounds super intimate.”

“I guess, but the food’s shit. Dad married a vegetarian, so the Winchesters have had tofurkey for the past twenty years. Dry cornbread dressing, sweet potato casserole without the marshmallows because my brother, Sam’s, a health freak and he says there’s too much sugar in the sweet potatoes without adding processed blah blah blah. I am beyond excited for a real Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love Maw-maw’s cooking, Dean. She makes these snap-beans that are sauteed in bacon fat, it makes them so flavorful. So, all the healthy gets replaced by cholesterol.”

“Bacon fat? Really?”

“Uh-huh. We harvest it from the bacon we fry up to go in the mashed potatoes.”

“I haven’t been so excited about Thanksgiving since the first time I tasted tofu, so I…” Dean put his hand dramatically over his mouth. “Thank you. I’m thankful for you.”

You laughed. “Oh, shut up.”

He smirked as he pulled his hand away. “You love it.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean drove his Impala to your apartment the next morning and the two of you climbed into your Ford with your bags tossed in the backseat. As soon as the engine turned over, your radio flickered to life, the middle of an Old Dominion song playing. “ _Are we last call kissin’ or will we be reminiscin’ with each other for the next forty years? Are we written in the stars, baby? Or are we written in the sand?_ ”

Dean made a face and reached for the dial, but you slapped his hand. “Excuse you! I like this song and it’s  _my_ car. You can curate the playlist on the way back, if you’re good over the weekend.”

“You  _like_ this drek?”

“Hey, man can’t live on caviar alone, Dean. Gotta have a little drek with your Zepp, okay? Don’t mess with my radio.” He rolled his eyes and settled down into the passenger seat, pouting adorably. “I’ll put it on a rock station in a few songs, okay?”

He smirked. “You’re so easy.”

You gasped, playfully and loudly. “How rude!”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, sure. Call a girl ‘easy’ but you know, who in this car is a whore?” you teased.

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, you got me there, princess.”

You let a few more songs pass on the country station, singing along softly as Florida-Georgia Line and George Strait and Carrie Underwood played. You reached out and hit the first preset button, the radio immediately switching to your favorite rock station, halfway through Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s “ _You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet_ ”. Dean smiled as you immediately picked up the lyrics and started to sing, much louder than you’d done with the other songs.

Dean watched you from the passenger seat as you drove, singing along loudly, drumming your hands against the steering wheel, and doing your best to head-bang while keeping your eyes on the road. You couldn’t help but notice his eyes on you, the way he kept adjusting the way he was sitting in his seat. You’d been driving for about an hour when he licked his lips and nodded at the big green sign you were passing. “Can you hit this rest stop?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, flicking the turn signal to get over into the right lane and take the exit to the rest area. You’d barely parked in the empty rest stop parking lot before Dean was leaned over you, lips pressed to yours. “Dean!” you squealed, pulling away.

“Sorry, just… something ‘bout you singing and… I’ve been hard for thirty miles and… come on, get out,” Dean demanded, twisting and getting out of the car, rushing around the front of the Ford and pulling your door open. “Turn the car off and let’s go.”

“Go?” you questioned, but you turned off the car and got out, hitting the button to lock the car and letting Dean pull you away toward the bathrooms. “Dean, it’s  _cold_!”

“I’ll warm you up, princess, I just-” He pushed you into the women’s restroom and checked each stall before dragging you into the handicap stall and pushing you against the wall.

“It’s nasty in here.”

“Sink’s clean. Bend over.” Dean pulled your panties and comfy leggings down your legs and immediately dropped his hand between your legs. “Fuck.” He brought his hand up to lick his fingers and rubbed them between your pussy lips, bending you over across the sink.

“D-dean, I… this isn’t…”

“Not gonna make you pay for this time, either, y/n. I just… kinda need to be inside you.” He stopped his movements on your body, fingers stilling against your clit. “‘Less you want me to stop, ‘cause I can do that, but I’m gonna need a few minutes to take care of myself, then.”

You swallowed, trying to think clearly. “You got a condom on you?”

“Always,” he responded, pulling a gold packet out of his inside jacket pocket and shaking it in front of your face. “What do you say, baby?”

“I say… fuck me, Dean.”

“Gotta get you ready,” he whispered, dropping to his knees behind you and burying his face in between your legs, tongue immediately going to work and making you squirm against the porcelain holding you up. “Taste so good,” he mumbled against you, dipping his tongue into your opening and making you cry out. Your mind flashed to the last time you had a tongue in your pussy, to Sam eating you out on your couch the day before you found out about Eileen. You didn’t have a chance to dwell, though, because Dean dug his fingers into your ass cheeks, pulling them apart and pressing his face closer.

“Dean!” Your fingers grasped at the edge of the sink, whining moans tearing from your throat. He pulled back, standing and rushing to undo his belt. You looked back over your shoulder, watching as he rolled the condom down his length. “Wh-why couldn’t we do this in the car?” you asked, breathlessly.

“Your car is tiny and I wanted to taste you this time. All that crap in the backseat… just wasn’t room to do this right,” he answered, pumping his hand down his cock to make sure the latex was secure before lining the tip up with your entrance and starting to slowly press in.

“Th-this is b-better?” you whined, closing your eyes in ecstasy. “Dirty rest stop bathroom?”

“You go ahead and tell me how I woulda been able to lick your pussy in that Ford of yours.” Dean’s hands curled around your hips, pulling you back slightly as he pushed his hips forward. When he was completely sheathed within your heat, he draped himself over you, leaning next to your ear. “Had to taste you this time, princess. Had to know if you were as good on my tongue as you are on my dick.”

You shivered at his breath warming your ear and the side of your face. “And?”

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart. Just like I thought you would.”

“You think about my pussy a lot, Dean?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Almost constantly since we went to  _Maillard’s_. It’s really been harmful to my work.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Getting distracted while you’re fuckin’ chicks probably isn’t very good for business.”

“You have no idea, y/n.” He pressed his lips to your jaw and pulled back, grabbing your hips again and starting to move within you. “God, this angle is…  _fuck_!” You whined, clenching hard as his cockhead grazed your g-spot. “Oh, fuck, do that again,” he demanded, snapping his hips forward harshly to make you cry out. You clenched hard around him and his grip on your hips tightened. “Woman, you are fuckin’ perfect,” he ground out, groaning.

You couldn’t even respond, holding onto the sink for dear life as he pounded into you with abandon. It didn’t take long for his pace to stutter, his cock twitching as he spilled into the condom. You were breathing heavily as Dean pulled out and slipped the condom off. He tossed it in the toilet without trying to tie it and turned back to you as you stood up and bent over to pull your leggings up. He smirked, pushing you into the cold cinder block wall and leaning down to capture your lips. He pressed his tongue between your lips, licking at your tongue. “You didn’t cum,” he whispered against your lips, as he slipped his left hand under the waistband of your leggings.

“That’s okay,” you whispered back. “It was still good. You don’t have to-”

“Don’t I?” He pulled back, looking in your eyes. “This is my reputation we’re talkin’ ‘bout. If I can’t get a client off, I’m gonna lose my job.”

“You’re not supposed to be getting this client off, anyway. No sex in my contract, Dean.”

“True. Still… like to see your face when you cum.” He pressed his fingertips against your clit, rubbing hard circles and keeping his eyes on yours. “You’ve got the cutest ‘O’ face.” You grabbed onto his shoulders and held on, reveling in his dancing fingertips until you clenched hard around nothing and you came with a loud moan. “That face, right there. Gorgeous,” he whispered, pulling his hand from your panties and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

As you got back in the car and turned the heat up to full-blast, you started laughing. Dean’s eyebrows furrowed as he warmed his hands over the vent closest to his door. “What?”

“What’s your pimp gonna do when he finds out I’m getting all this sex for free?”

He chuckled. “My  _boss_ isn’t gonna find out. Unless you tell him.”

“Nah, I’m good with the freebies.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulling in behind Carol’s Mercedes Benz filled you full of deja vu. “Wow. You said ‘mansion’ but I didn’t really think… wow.”

“I warned you. You ready?”

“Of course. You?”

You chuckled. Of course you were ready. You’d done this once before. “Always,” you said, turning the engine off and getting out of the car. You and Dean both grabbed your bags out of the backseat and headed toward the house. Once again, Ted answered the door with a beer in his hand. He didn’t look as intimidated by Dean as he had by Sam, but he still had an edge of confused fear to his eyes as he surveyed the newcomer. “Happy Thanksgiving, Ted! Ted, this is Dean. Dean, this is my sister’s husband, Ted.”

Dean nodded, switching his bag from his right hand to his left so that he could offer his hand to your brother-in-law. Ted gave a weak smile and took Dean’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Ted.”

“Nice to- I didn’t know y/n was bringing- I didn’t know y/n had a-” Ted couldn’t quite figure out how to finish his sentence.

“Dude, can you move? It’s cold out here,” you interrupted, pulling your jacket tighter around you.

Ted dropped Dean’s hand and stepped back out of the way, giving you room to head inside and up the stairs. Dean followed you up to the third floor and into the third bedroom, where you dropped your bag on the bed. Dean kicked the door closed and dropped his bag next to yours. “He just  _looks_ like a douchebag.”

“He is,” you confirmed, pulling out your makeup bag, followed by a small opaque bag with a zipper. Dean bounced down onto the bed and looked over at you as you placed the small bags on top of the dresser. You pulled your jacket off and threw it on the chair in the corner before turning to look at him looking at you. “What?”

Dean just smiled and shook his head, slightly. “Just thinkin’… haven’t had sex on a bed, yet.”

You bit the inside of your lip and shook your head. It was kinda amazing to you, how much he wanted you and you felt a little guilty about manipulating him into it. It also occurred to you that this was the  _exact_ bed you first had sex with Sam on, so that was an issue. “We have to go downstairs, Dean. Ted is probably telling everybody in the kitchen all about the big, handsome guy I brought with me. They’ll come looking for us soon.”

He pursed his lips and stood, slipping his jacket off and tossing it to join yours on the chair. He looked amazing in his light grey henley and you barely stopped the sigh that tried to escape your chest. “All right. Let’s go meet your family, princess.” He leaned down and kissed you before taking your hand and kissing the back of it. You led him down the stairs and into the kitchen where everyone was congregating, just as you knew they would be.

“Hey, everybody. Happy Thanksgiving,” you greeted with a smile before Ted could bring attention to your presence. They all turned to you. Ted nodded at Dean as Marlene, Charles, Carol, Stan and Maw-maw looked across the kitchen. “This is my boyfriend, Dean.”

Carol stepped forward with her flirty face and offered her hand just as she’d done to Sam. “You got a last name, Dean?”

“Smith,” he responded, giving the handshake a single pump and then dropping Carol’s hand like a hot potato. “You must be Carol.”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Y/n described you all really well.”

“Your last name really ‘Smith’? Dean Smith?” Marlene asked, a disbelieving look on her face.

“Why? Ya gonna do a background check on me?” Dean asked, with a smirk. “Y/n knows my last name, that’s good enough for me.” It took you a minute to realize that, yes, Dean had told you that he was a Winchester. It had gone completely over your head the night before.

Everyone exchanged looks at his refusal to share his real name. “Okay,” Carol started, trying her flirty voice again. “Well, what do you do, Dean Smith?” She walked her fingers up his arm to his shoulder. “You look like a ‘hands-on’ kinda guy.”

Dean’s lips twitched into an uncomfortable smile as he reached up to snatch her wrist in his hand, moving back away from her and dropping her hand again, this time forcefully. “You’re smarter than you look. I’m a mechanic.” He leaned against the wall and pulled you in front of him, draping his arms over your shoulders.

“And, uh, how’d my sister bag  _you_ , huh?” You flinched. Even knowing it was coming, knowing that Carol would never just  _let_ you have something nice without questioning it, it still stung and had the added bonus of reminding you of Sam defending you, the action that made you fall for him.

“Oh, her little ‘Found On Road Dead’ Fusion had some trouble with the clutch so she brought it into my shop. It’s actually a really common problem on that model, the plates slip. I’m tryin’ to convince her to let me put a manual trans in but she thinks it’s too expensive. I think, maybe, she was lying when she said she could drive a stick.”

“Yeah, but how’d  _she_ get  _your_ attention?” Carol reiterated.

Dean moved his embrace to let his arms cross over your chest. “Sorry, I must be a bit slow, I guess. What is  _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Well, come on,” Marlene started. You steeled yourself for the next phrase. “You’re a  _hard_ ten and she’s, well, a soft four. A  _squishy_ four.”

Dean scoffed. “Wow. You are some petty bitches, aren’t’cha?”

“Excuse you?” Carol squeaked.

“No, excuse  _you_. You really got no room in your hearts to be happy for y/n? You gotta dig in and pick at y/n’s insecurities ‘cause you hate your  _own_ life so much? Why, ‘cause she’s got a Master’s degree and you’ve got a certificate that says you know which pair of scissors to use on a badass pixie cut? So she’s a bit soft, so fuckin’ what? She may be squishy, but at least she’s not held together by botox and silicone and you know what? Some guys  _like_ a woman to be squishy, to have a little give, a little extra cushion for the, uh, ya know…”

Dean’s rambling was cut off by Maw-maw’s screeching laughter. “Finally, someone said it!” she said, through wheezing noises as she shuffled forward. “You know, I have waited damn near thirty years for you to bring a man home.” You bit your lip as she pulled you out of Dean’s arms. “Waited all these years and you bring a man with you and it’s this one, this handsome rough-around-the-edges mechanic with hearts in his eyes who isn’t afraid to call out your sister and my daughter as the shallow bitches they are. I’ve been waiting for someone to put Carol in her place since your mother gave birth to this brat.”

Carol’s expression became even more offended at your grandmother’s words. “You better lock this one down before I die, so that you can give me great-grandkids worth their inheritance. God knows I don’t want to leave more than absolutely necessary to Carol and the one who sniffs glue.”

“It was pottery glaze and it was  _one_ time!” Carol defended.

“If you believe that, you’re a bigger idiot than I took you for, girlie.” You giggled at Carol’s suddenly sad features and Maw-maw turned to look at her. “Now, now, calm down. Maw-maw still loves you. That’s why I tell you when you’re being dumb.” She turned back to you. “Now, sit your ass down at the table, I’ll grab the recipe cards for the pies. None of these idiots can get them right and I have Insta followers to impress.”

“Wait, you can make pie?” Dean’s voice was full of wonder and his eyes were wide. “I didn’t know you knew how to  _make_ pie.”

You smirked. “Well, they’re Maw-maw’s recipes, I just execute them. But I’m damn good at executing them,” you whispered.

Dean’s hands went to your head and he pulled you into a fierce but short kiss. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, y/n. I swear to God, you’re amazing.”

You sighed, happily, and pressed your hands to your cheeks in an attempt to fight the heat rising up in them as you walked to sit at the table to start working on the dough.


	5. Turkey Day

**Warnings** : mentions ofprostitution, mentions of PTSD, anxiety attack, mentions of past sexual assault,  **18+ HERE BE SEX DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!** protected sex, fingering, oral (fem rec)

* * *

“That’s beautiful. I- the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Dean looked almost teary as he looked down at the apple pie in your hands.

“It’ll look better after it’s baked,” you assured him as you bent down to place the pie in the oven next to the cherry one and above the pumpkin and pecan ones. He stepped up behind you, obviously not caring that members of your family were still in the room, and grabbed a big handful of your ass. You squealed and pulled away, twisting into his arms. He pressed his lips to yours and you moaned a little louder than was strictly necessary, liking the way Carol bristled at the sound. She really didn’t like you happy. Bitch.

“Sorry, princess. Couldn’t help myself.”

“Coulda,” you contradicted, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking up into his eyes.

He smiled. “Fine. Didn’t want to,” he whispered.

“All right, lover-boy. Bring those mechanic hands over here and snap the ends off these green beans,” Maw-maw demanded, shaking a bag of snap beans across the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean gave you another quick kiss and turned around to grab the beans. You watched him as he started to work. You loved watching him. How his hands moved so gracefully, how his eyes focused so intently on what he was doing, how he’d pull his bottom lip between teeth or swipe his tongue over it.

“Missy, you aren’t done. Start peelin’ the hard boiled eggs.”

“Okay, Maw-maw,” you said, turning away from looking at Dean to grab the eggs.

“So, when are your parents gonna get here, y/n?” Dean called across the kitchen.

“Traffic on the two-ten,” you and Carol both said at the same time.

“What?”

“Mom always manages to miss the cooking prep by showing up late, complaining of traffic on the two-ten,” you answered.

“But there’s never traffic on the two-ten.” Dean shook his head, turning from the beans to look at you.

“Yeah, we’re not supposed to know that, though,” Carol answered, shortly. You chuckled to hear her talk to Dean with the same tone she usually spoke to you.

“They’ll show up around seven,” you said, smirking as Dean finished off the beans.

“Dean, can you go get the brine bucket with the turkey from the garage fridge?” Maw-maw asked.

“Yeah, of course.” Dean dropped the snap beans on the island, kissed your forehead and walked out.

“So, has he broken your dry spell, yet?” Carol spat out as soon as Dean was out of the room.

“What?” You heard her and understood, of course, but you didn’t want to acknowledge her words.

“The dry spell,” she said, nastily. “What’s it been five  _years_ since a man could handle getting himself between those thunder thighs? What was his name, Mike, the guy from your English II course?”

Your body stiffened and your chest started to get tight at the mention of your ex, but it wasn’t Mike that made you react, it was the man who  _actually_ broke your dry spell. “You know what, Carol? I don’t-”

She obviously noticed the way it made you feel and attacked. “Oh, it  _was_ , wasn’t it? A five year dry spell where you didn’t get any-”

“No, Carol, it wasn’t!” you snapped, tossing a half-peeled egg into the bowl in front of you. “Not that it’s any of your fuckin’ business how long my fucking dry spell was, but before Dean it was six fucking months, okay?” You stood, quickly, and rushed out of the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time to get up to your room. You swiped the little black bag off of the dresser and unzipped it, flopping down onto the bed as you pulled a small orange prescription bottle out and twisted the top off. You swallowed the small white Xanax pill without any water and twisted the top back on.

It made so much sense that you’d have your first full-on panic attack since you got back to 2018 because of your stupid sister. You took a deep breath, but it didn’t feel like you were pulling any air into your lungs. Tears pricked at the edge of your eyes and you lied backward, twisting on your side and tucking your legs into your chest. You didn’t register the sound of Dean’s boots on Maw-maw’s hardwood floor, barely registered the bed dipping beside you, but the calloused fingertips brushing your hair out of your face brought you back to the real world.

You sniffled and unfurled your body, moving to force yourself to be okay, but Dean pressed his hand into your shoulder, urging you to stay. “Don’t.” He shook his head, picking up the pill bag from the bed next to you and setting it on the side table before lying down next to you and pulling you into his arms. He let you get comfortable with your head against his chest, his hand rubbing softly up and down your arm before he spoke again. “Carol?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yeah.”

“Bitch.”

You chuckled, without any real humor. “Yeah.”

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t  _have_ to be.”

“What?” You sat up enough to look up into his eyes.

“You don’t have to be okay. Not until you really  _are_. We can stay right here ‘til whatever you took kicks in and you can go face your bitch sister again.”

You snuggled into his chest again, falling a little more in love with him because of his emotional maturity and empathetic response to your breakdown. “It wasn’t really Carol,” you whispered eventually. “She just pushed a button she didn’t realize was… she made me think about something that I… she didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. She’s still a bitch.” Dean kissed your forehead and held you just a little tighter.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time you made it back down to the kitchen, the pies were done and sitting on a cooling rack. “That smells like heaven!” Dean drew attention to himself to try to break some of the tension of you coming back after storming out before, but it didn’t work. Everyone was staring.

“I finished the stupid eggs, so you can go watch tv with the boys,” Carol snapped.

“Fuck off.”

“Babe.” Dean called your attention and you looked over at him. “ _Breathe_ ,” he mouthed the word and you nodded, forcing air into your lungs.

“Take your man and go show him the cave,” Maw-maw ordered.

“Cave?”

You smiled. You hadn’t thought about the cave on the South side of the property in years. “Hey, D., will you go get our coats?” He nodded, confusion still painting his features, and went to retrieve your coats from the room. He held yours up when he returned and helped you into it. “Such a gentleman,” you whispered as you zipped it up. He smiled and winked at you as you grabbed his hand and led him out of the house.

“So  _where_ are you taking me?”

“When I was seven, Carol and I were playing hide and seek and I discovered this cave on the far side of the property. I hid in there for… three hours? Waiting for Carol to find me, thinking I’m the best hider ever.”

“She stopped looking for you, didn’t she?”

“Well, you’ve got her number. She’s always been a bitch. But, anyway, I fell in love with the cave during those three hours I was in there, so I used to spend a lot of time in there when I was growing up. Actually, I spent all my free Thanksgiving time in the cave for years, until my mom made a big deal about the fact that I ‘didn’t want to be around the family’. It’s just up here.” There was a flashlight hanging by the mouth of the cave and flipping the switch confirmed that the batteries were good. “Guess somebody else likes the cave.”

You stooped and moved into the mouth of the cave. “Am I gonna fit in there?” Dean asked.

“The entrance is only five feet, but the roof of the actual cave is over nine. Come on.”

“Well, the entrance is definitely kid-sized.” Dean’s head scraped against the entrance but when he made it into the actual cave, he easily stood to his full height. He looked around, eyes falling on every piece of the cave that was lit by your flashlight. “Wow. Awesome.”

“Come on. I’ll show you my favorite part.” You led him further into the cave, stopping at the edge of a pool of water with steam coming off of it.

“Hot spring?” You nodded. “Awesome!”

“Right?! I used to come out here with a swimsuit under my clothes and just lounge until my whole body was pruney.”

“There’s an idea.” His eyes shined in the dim light as he smirked.

You shook your head. “I’m not skinny dipping, Dean. I’m not skinny.”

“Funny. Why not? It’s just you and me out here.”

“Because it’s freezing and…”

“Not in the hot spring, it’s not.” He smiled and started to pull his jacket off. “ _I’m_ gonna do it. You don’t have to.”

“You’re really just going to get nude and-”

He nodded, smirking and dropping his jacket to the cave floor. “Why not?” As he pulled his henley over his head, it occurred to you that you’d had sex with the man twice, but neither of you had been naked. His skin broke out in goosebumps as soon as it was exposed to the air, his nipples standing at attention as he dropped to kneel down and untie his boots. “Shoulda done this before I took the shirt off,” he muttered to himself. You couldn’t help the giggle that pulled out of your chest. He smiled up at you. “Want me to untie yours?”

You bit your lip, then nodded. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

He gave that gorgeous smile and leaned forward to undo your laces, helping you out of your shoes and stuffing your socks in them before setting them aside. You moved quickly to pull your clothes off. It was too cold to try to be sexy about it as you dropped your clothes to the floor on top of your shoes and slipped into the warmth of the hot spring. Dean slipped in beside you and shivered as his body warred between the warm water and the cold of the air still attacking his shoulders and head. “This is nice.”

“It is. I haven’t done this in years… never without a bathing suit.” You looked down, trying to fight back the feelings of self-consciousness.

Dean slid closer to you, putting a hand on your left knee. “You look fuckin’ amazing without a bathing suit,” he whispered, leaning over next to your ear.

You swallowed, your breathing picking up as his lips attached to your shoulder and his hand moved up your thigh. “D-dean, this isn’t… we can’t…”

“‘ _We_ ’ nothin’, princess.” He took your earlobe in between teeth and nibbled slightly. “I just wanna see you come apart again.”

“Uh…”

“Can I? Huh, y/n, can I feel you cum around my fingers, see that gorgeous face you make when you orgasm?” You nodded, not trusting your voice to work right. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk and you gasped and gave a little moan as he slipped his middle finger into your pussy. “And, fuck, if your little pleasure sounds don’t get me hard.” You reached out through the water and wrapped your hand around his cock. You weren’t about to let him touch you and not touch him back. The groan he let out into your ear sent a shiver down your spine. “ _Fuck_.”

“Your n-noises are nice, too,” you whispered, breathily.

“Fuck it, com’ere.” He slipped his hand out from between your legs and grabbed your hips, easily pulling you to straddle his lap, his hard cock pulsing against your slit as he leaned forward to take a nipple between his lips. You braced yourself on his shoulders, your knees barely finding purchase on the rock ledge he was sitting on. His tongue swirled around the pebbled-up nipple and he started to thrust his hips, rubbing his cock along your slit.

“Dean, w-we should…”

“Your tits are amazing.” He reached up and took a handful of your neglected breast, rolling it in a wet hand. He looked into your eyes and smiled, slightly. “Wish I had a condom on me.”

“Why don’t we get dressed and go back inside? The food prep’s about to be done, my parent’s’ll be showing up soon. We can finish this later.” You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. Dean closed his eyes, letting the kiss become a languid, affectionate expression and you let your eyes flutter closed, too.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pulling back from the kiss. “Let’s go.” You rushed to get your clothes on over wet skin, fighting back full-body shivers. Dean wrapped his arms around you as the two of you shuffled toward the manor. “Gotta warm you up.”

“Well, that’s nice, but you’re just slowing me down, D.” you said, before pulling away from him and running full-speed for the back entrance to the manor. Dean caught up to you easily, laughing. You pulled the door open and walked into the house, both of you chuckling happily.

“You know, that’s not good for your vagina,” Maw-maw called out from the kitchen as you passed.

“Ew!  _Mom_!” Marlene groaned as you stepped into the kitchen doorway, Dean behind you.

“What’s that, Maw-maw?”

“The water gets up inside you, all the bacteria gets in and it messes with your ph. It’s worse than douching.”

“We didn’t,” you assured her with a smile.

“Your half-wet pants tell a different story. You were in that hot spring.”

“Uh-huh. So? Naked doesn’t necessarily mean sex.” You shrugged.

“Trust me, I’d be a lot happier if we had, but somebody’s got rules about safe sex, so… no go without a condom.” Dean said it like it was your rule or something.

“ _Anyway_ ,” you said, rolling your eyes and turning around. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Don’t worry about my ph, Maw-maw.”

“All right, but a healthy vagina is a happy vagina is a happy sex life!” she called out as you climbed the stairs.

~~~~~~~~

When you entered the guest room, wrapped in your fluffy robe, Dean was lying on the bed. He had changed into a pair of dark grey sweats and a plain black t-shirt and he had his eyes closed as he listened to whatever was playing in his earbuds, his bare feet moving along to the rhythm of the song. As soon as you shut the door, he jerked, pulling the earbuds out of his ear and blacking out the screen on his phone as he sat up and set them on the side table. “All warm and comfy now, princess?”

You nodded, climbing onto the mattress next to him. “Have my parents showed up, yet?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. ‘bout five minutes after you closed the bathroom door. Don’t think I didn’t notice that timing. They seem pretty okay. I’m glad you told your mom about your mechanic boyfriend because that could’ve been real awkward.”

“Yeah. They on the top floor?”

“Yeah, your dad put their stuff in the room in the far corner.”

“Good. That’s good.” You flopped down on your back and adjusted the pillow under your head. Dean leaned over you, looking down into your eyes. “What?”

“You’re just gorgeous.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.” He leaned down and slotted his lips against yours, leisurely kissing you as he pulled the sash of your robe open and slid his hand inside, rough fingertips making you moan. You buried your hand in his hair and slipped your tongue between his lips, keeping the pace languid, letting Dean move as slowly as he wanted, letting it feel like passion and not pure lust. You couldn’t think about the fact that you were lying on the bed that Sam broke your dry spell on as Dean’s limbs tangled with yours, his hands mapping every curve and contour of your body. It was so different that it didn’t even register as the same act.

Everything was soft strokes, a languid pace, focusing on you and your pleasure… taking his time and worshipping you in a way that Sam never had. The imagery of Sam splitting you in half with his giant cock, praising the way you took him so perfectly, priding himself on how loud he’d made you scream, it was all washed away in Dean.

Dean licking happy stripes up your slit, sucking gently on your clit, pressing his tongue inside you to clean every bit of your juices out of you. Dean kissing his way up your body and blowing gently in your ear to make you shiver for him. Dean pressing his cock into you slowly, letting you feel every bit of him like it was the first time, or maybe just the first time he could do it the way he wanted. Dean showing you the difference between ‘fucking’ and ‘making love’.

“Need another shower,” you muttered as you lay your head against his sweaty chest, but you didn’t move to get your robe back on or to move from his arms.

“We’ll take one in the morning,”

“Tired?”

“You’ve put me through the wringer today, princess.”

“Hmm, coulda sworn you were the one making all the moves, D.”

“Only ‘cause you’ve had me hard all day just by being you. It’s really fucking unfair.”

“Well, I’m terribly sorry. I can try to be someone else, if you want. That mess of a woman, shaky and teary-eyed, she could make another appearance, if you prefer.”

“Nah. I’d rather deal with being horny all the time than you be sad.”

You groaned and sat up. “Dammit.”

“What?”

“I just remembered I gotta take my meds. I have to go get a glass of water. Be right back.” You rolled off of the bed and grabbed the robe from the floor where it ended up. You were on your way back to the room with a small crystal cup full of water when your mom ascended the stairs. “Oh, hey, Mom.”

“Met your boyfriend,” she said, simply.

“He told me. Sorry, I was in the shower.”

“He seems really… Carol doesn’t like him.”

You smiled, tightly. “Carol doesn’t like anything I like… or she likes it too much.”

“Oh, I don’t want to hear about that damn dog.”

“ _My_ dog. The puppy that was given to  _me_ by my Girl Scout den mother for helping her daughter get all of her Brownie badges at the neglect of my own. My dog that Carol proceeded to convince you I was too young to care for, that you gave to her, which she didn’t feed or play with, and it dug under the fence and was never seen again.” You rolled your eyes and took a step closer to your room. “Carol doesn’t like him because he called her a bitch, which she was being.”

“She doesn’t have to like me,” Dean said, opening the door and stepping out in just his boxers. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and you leaned back into him. “Y/n doesn’t like Ted, so…”

You scoffed. “It didn’t deter Carol, at all, how much I detest Ted. Anyway, Mom, thanks for the concern. Dean and I are fine. Good night.”

You turned around and put your free hand on Dean’s chest, pushing him back into the room. He bounced backward on the bed and you smiled as you pulled out your meds. “You know you put up with way too much bullshit.”

“Ah, it could be worse.”

“Yeah, and you’d deal if it were. You’d just let the world keep weighing on you, wouldn’t ya?”

You swallowed down the capsule and set the water aside with the little black bag. “Some things are a one-Titan job.” You climbed into bed and pulled the covers up. “But I’ve… recently, I’ve started to share the weight a little. My best friend, Charlie, she helps me hold stuff.”

“That’s good. Havin’ a good support system’s good… important.” He turned on his side and you turned your head to capture his eyes. “My little brother, Sam, he’s a ‘one-Titan’ kinda guy. Thought he could handle everything, ya know? We thought he could, too… ya know? ‘Cause he’s the smart one. He’s the one who went to college at Stanford, got a one seventy-four on the LSATs. Stanford Law practically begged him to stick around and go to law school with them. If anyone shoulda been able to recognize something toxic, it shoulda been him, but…”

Dean shook his head. “He got himself in deep, too deep, but he wouldn’t ask for help. He refused to admit that there was a problem. Shouldered it ‘til I came in and forced him to share a bit of the load.”

“An intervention?” you whispered. You knew the story, of course. Dean intervened by driving Sam to rehab and forcing him inside.

“Guess you could call it that, but it was more a violent confrontation than a touchy-feely, ‘this is how your bullshit has hurt me’ sit-down. Sam’s a big dude, bigger than me, and he’s prone to fighting when coming off a high. He almost choked me to death when I found him the first time he relapsed.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed down a sudden desire to cry. The thought of Sam almost killing Dean in a flash of violence… it dragged up memories of your own encounter with that monster. You opened your eyes when Dean’s large hand came up to caress your face. You gave a weak smile. “I’m okay,” you whispered.

“Ya sure?” he whispered back. You nodded. As he started speaking again, he ran his thumb across your temple in soft sweeps. “Anyway. Sam’s learned to accept support now. Me and his support group sponsor, the rest of the family, the other addicts in his program. Support’s important.”

“I know. Even when I was shouldering everything alone, I had my best friends. I didn’t lean on them… but I should have. That’s the first thing they teach you at support group meetings… ‘Together, we stand’ and all that.”

He nodded. “Get some sleep, princess.”

“Good night, Dean.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was showered, dressed and back in bed with you before your eyes opened the next morning. He had his eyes closed, listening to music again, a small but genuine smile on his lips. “Good morning.”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” he said, pulling the earbuds from his ears.

You covered your mouth as you sat up and yawned. “Ew, morning breath.”

He chuckled. “I’d be more worried about that morning hair.”

You reached up to smooth down your unruly hair and shook your head. “I’m gonna run and take a quick shower.”

“All right. I’ll be here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your day was focused on making dinner, while Dean ended up elbows-deep in Maw-maw’s 1961 Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud drop top, giving it some much-needed love and a tune-up.

When Dean came down from showering the grease off, he was wearing a red button-up over a black tee and dark blue jeans. You smiled as he took the seat next to you. “Well, lookit. My grease monkey cleans up nice.”

“You should see me in a tux,” he responded with a wink.

“So, Dean, what’s your family doing for Thanksgiving?” your dad asked, pouring sparkling juice into his wine glass.

“Uh,  _this_ except, you know, my stepmom won’t eat anything that used to have a face so-” Dean shrugged. “I’m happy to know what real turkey tastes like again.”

“Oh, D. You’re gonna love this. The only part of this meal that’s veggie-friendly are the rolls and the pies.”

“Perfection.”

“Beer or wine, Dean?” Ted asked.

“I think a beer would be good. Wanna grab one for y/n, too, Ted? Thanks, man, you’re a peach,” Dean said, dismissively before turning back to your parents. “Anyway, do you guys do the ‘What I’m thankful for’ thing or do you do grace or just dig in?”

“We say what we’re thankful for. We haven’t done a proper grace since Dad passed. Unless you’d like to lead us in prayer, Dean,” your mom responded, smiling sweetly.

“Nah, I’m good with being thankful. Who starts?”

“I will,” you volunteered. “I am thankful for second chances and healthy support networks. I’m thankful for people who love me and want the best for me. I’m thankful for true family.” You raised the beer Ted put in front of you and the rest of the table did the same. “Dean?”

“I am thankful for…” he started slowly. “People too strong and stubborn to lay down and die. And beautiful, soft women with hard hearts, and I am most thankful that Ford put a crap transmission in the 2015 Fusions, because if she’d bought a Chevy, I never woulda met y/n.”

You looked down, smiling, as he spoke, but you put your beer up when he raised his. As your family each took their turns, each praising family and friends and business opportunities, Dean’s hand rested on your thigh. There was nothing sexual in the touch, it seemed like it was just his way of letting you know he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere.

An hour later, the two of you were on the sofa in the living room, watching TV. “I can barely move. I… I couldn’t… I haven’t eaten that much in… years.”

You chuckled. “So, not going in for pie?”

“How can you even  _ask_ me that? Of course I’ll go for pie… in, like, an hour when I can walk again.” He sighed, heavily. “So, what do we do with the rest of the weekend? We’re here ‘til Sunday, right?”

“Friday’s fishing and manicures.”

“What?”

“Friday, after all the cousins leave, Ted and Charles and Ted Jr. and Stan go fishing and Maw-maw takes the ladies to get our nails done.”

“Okay. And Saturday?”

“Saturday, everybody’ll be leaving except us. I always stick around to help Maw-maw clean the house from everybody’s messes.”

“She doesn’t have a maid?”

“Nah, not since Paw-paw passed. She likes to take care of the house. It gives her something to do, but after Thanksgiving, the whole place is a disaster so…”

“You’re a good granddaughter. I feel bad about how I was with my grandma Millie, now.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. I work for myself so I decide when I go back to work. The others don’t have that luxury.”

“They don’t care to do it. Stan works for himself, too, doesn’t he?”

“Shh, don’t think about it like that.” You leaned your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes. “Just means we’ll get to avoid the traffic on the way home.”

“And we’ll get to eat whatever leftovers are there, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’m good with stayin’.”

You chuckled. “Not that you have much choice.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You left Maw-maw’s house on Sunday with plenty of time to make it home, but you didn’t really  _want_ to go home. When you pulled into your apartment parking spot, that might be the end. Dean might climb into Baby and drive off and never talk to you again. So, you stuck to the speed limit, car never straying from the slow lane, a subdued feeling of anxiety in your chest as you tried to retain every moment of your time with Dean, locking it in your memory just in case they were your last moments with him.

“Hey, there’s a bar up here. Wanna stop in, have a drink before we call it a night?” Dean suggested once you’d made it to the city limits. You nodded, ecstatic to have more time with him, and pulled off into the parking lot of the bar that fancied itself more of a nightclub. You beeped the locks on the car and followed him in. The bouncer looked over Dean and let him pass, but he asked for your ID. “Really? Dude, come on!”

“It’s cool, Dean. I’m flattered,” you said, pulling out your wallet.

“I’m not! He didn’t even question  _my_ age.”

“Oh, Dean. You’re almost forty. You’ve aged amazingly, but there’s no way you’re young enough to get carded.”

“All right. I see how it is.”

You followed him in as soon as the bouncer let you through and you took a seat at a table as Dean went to the bar. You smiled as you realized someone was on stage, singing ‘ _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_ ’. You looked around and saw that every other table had a large white binder on it, so you grabbed the one off the empty table closest and flipped it open. “Karaoke!” you said, happily as Dean set two bottles of beer on the table.

“No.”

“Come on! It’s gonna be fun!” you promised, flipping through the binder.

“It’ll be embarrassing, for everyone,” he argued.

“Well,  _I’m_ gonna sing.” You kept scanning the binder.

“That’s your prerogative, princess,” he dismissed, picking up the bottle he’d decided was his and taking a drink.

“Maybe some ‘ _R-E-S-P-E-C-T_ ’?”

“Can you pull off Aretha?” he asked, with an eyebrow raised.

“Hell no. Who other than the queen could?” You kept looking. “I’m no Tina, but maybe ‘ _Proud Mary_ ’?”

“What, you don’t want to sing any of that country shit you like?”

“I thought we decided it was drek, not shit, Dean?” You looked up and caught his eyes. “I’ve got Icarus on my shirt, dude, I can’t go soft.”

A few more people got up to sing and eventually you found a song you felt you could manage, so you scribbled out the call number on a piece of paper with your name and took it up to the DJ. When you got back to the table, Dean had pulled the binder in front of him and was flipping through it. “You gonna sing?”

“Probably not. I mean, unless they got something real good in here,” he answered with a shrug. “So, what are you gonna sing?”

“You’ll see. I hope you find something. I’d love to hear what that deep gravel of yours sounds like in a microphone.” Pink spread across Dean’s nose and cheeks, making his freckles pop in contrast. “Huh… add that to my list of accomplishments.”

“What, ‘made a whore blush’?” He didn’t look up from the binder.

“Well, if you wanna put it that way, sure, but I was more focused on the fact that you’re gorgeous and probably get complimented all the time and I managed to get past your tough front and make you turn pink, but yeah, sure. ‘Made a whore blush’ works, too, I guess.”

He looked up, caught your eyes, and smiled. “Well, if I didn’t know better, y/n, I’d think you liked me.”

“What’s not to like?”

“Chicks usually have a problem with the job,” he admitted. “First chick I dated after I started, Cassie, she left me when I got around to telling her what I did for a living, so I lied to the next one. I told her I was a fireman. She, uh, took it okay when she found out the truth, but she wanted me to get a ‘real job’ because apparently I was a bad influence on her son if I wasn’t sweatin’ in the sun on some road crew.” He rolled his eyes and took a drink of his beer.

“Maybe she just wanted you to be all tanned and sweaty when you got there, instead of smelling like other women.”

“I never went to her smelling like other women. That’s just courtesy.”

“Could I get y/n up here to the booth, please?” came over the PA.

“Be right back,” you said, jumping up and rushing to the DJ booth. “‘Sup?”

“We can’t find the cd your song’s on. We’ve got the Eric Clapton version and that’s pretty much-”

“It’s not the same! The Clapton version sucks. It’s a straight cover of the Johnson version, not even-” You sighed heavily and rolled your eyes. “Do you have  _any_ Zeppelin other than ‘ _Stairway to Heaven_ ’? Do you have ‘ _Ramble On_ ’?”

“Yeah. You wanna do that instead?”

“Instead of an Eric Clapton song that I didn’t want? Yeah.”

“All right. You’re up next.”

When you turned back to the table, Dean wasn’t there. Your eyes found him at the bar, talking to the pretty brunette bartender. You bit your lip and waited by the DJ booth instead of going back to the table. The DJ handed you the mic right after the man before you got done singing ‘ _Small Town Saturday Night_ ’ and you took the stage. Dean moved quickly back to the table, a hat from the shelf behind the bar in his hands, and he sat down just as the first notes poured from the speakers.

You didn’t need the words on the screens in front of you. You’d sung the song so many times with Dean, gone into deep discussion about the lyrics, that it would’ve been almost impossible to mess them up. Even with Dean looking up at the stage, singing along with ‘hearts in his eyes’ as Maw-maw said.

Dean approached the stage as you finished, handing a piece of paper to the DJ and offering you his hand as you got down from the stage. “You’re gonna sing?”

He smirked. “Somebody wanted to know how my voice sounds through a microphone.” When you got to the table, he picked up the hat and placed it, backwards, on your head. “A little keepsake.”

You pulled it off and undid the snaps, loosening it several buttons so that it fit better. “Thanks, Dean.”

“No problem, princess. It looks cute on you.”

You smiled. “So, what are you gonna sing?”

“You’ll see. You kinda scooped me on my favorite song, so I had to pick somethin’ else.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t  _mean_ to take your favorite song. I was trying to sing ‘ _Traveling Riverside Blues_ ’ but they lost the stupid cd.”

“Have I mentioned how awesome it is that you love Zeppelin?”

“Only a dozen times. Don’t worry. I like hearing it.”

“You gonna make fun of me if I butcher my song?” he asked, reaching across the table to take your hand.

“Did I make fun of the guy who tried to sing ‘ _La Bamba_ ’?”

“You  _laughed_.”

“Everybody laughed. It was funny. Even  _he_  laughed.” You squeezed his hand. “I’m sure whatever you chose, you’ll do awesome.”

“Thanks.”

A few more songs went by (La Bamba guy doing a terrible but hilarious version of Elvis’ ‘ _A Little Less Conversation_ ’) before the DJ called out, “Dean.”

Dean stood, not relinquishing your hand. “You wanted me to do this, you come with me.” You let him pull you on stage, where he gestured for you to sit on the bar stool and went to get the mic. The title card came up and you gasped. ‘ **Old Dominion: Snapback** ’ “Dean, you don’t even know this song! I thought you didn’t want to-”

Dean gave you a look that said, ‘Don’t doubt me’ as the drums and bass started playing. “ _Strictly outta curiosity, what would happen if you got with me?_ ” He sang directly to you and it made you smile. His voice wasn’t refined and he stuttered a bit on ‘ _Gimme any of your heart tonight_ ’, but he was having fun and he was singing to you and your cheeks were burning hot as he danced around you with far more hip action than was needed. “ _Those stars need to be wished on. Your skin need to be kissed on. My eyes, baby, they’re fixed on you in your snapback._ ” He flicked the hat off of your head and put it on his.

“ _T-shirt of your favorite rock band. Checkin’ your makeup in my Ray Bans. Breakin hearts like only you can. In your snapback._ ” He shared the mic with you when it went into the ‘ _woah, oh-oh-oh_ ’s and you sang along with him as he leaned his shoulder into you. He pulled away and started to sing again. “ _Come on baby shoot a smile at me. Midnight selfie on a balcony. A little somethin’ for my lock screen. You’re burning a hole in my pocket. We got the beat let’s drop it._ ” He dropped the microphone out of his right hand and grabbed it from the air with his left, doing a spin as you squealed in delight. He seamlessly went to the chorus, placing the hat back on your head when it got to ‘ _Tattoos, cutoffs and Converse, singin’ along to the song with the wrong words_ ’ and wrapping his arm around you when it got back to the ‘ _Woah_ ’s. He kissed your temple and pulled away, pointing at you with his free hand as it came to the final chorus. “ _Those stars need to be wished on. Your skin needs to be kissed on. My eyes, baby, they’re fixed on you in your snapback. T-shirt of **my** favorite rock band. Checkin’ your makeup in my Ray Bans. Breakin’ hearts like only you can, in your snapback. Woah, oh-oh-oh. Woah, oh-oh-oh. Woah, oh-oh-oh. In your snapback._”

After the final ‘Woah’s, as it went to the sixteen measure outro, Dean leaned down by your ear. “Be my girlfriend.”

“What?” You turned to him with wide eyes.

“Contract’s up, y/n, but I don’t wanna be done. I don’t wanna think about deleting your number from my phone. Not when you’re all I think about lately. You’re amazing and beautiful and the smartest, most awesome woman I’ve ever met and if you could see yourself with a mess like me, I’d be fuckin’ honored, sweetheart.”

You leaned up and kissed him, running your tongue across his to chase the taste of beer around his mouth. He smiled when the song ended and you pulled back. “That’s a ‘yes’, Winchester.”

“Thought so.” When you got out to your car, you were almost floating, undeniably happy. Dean dropped into your passenger seat and pulled out his phone. “I gotta call my brother. Gimme a minute.” He put the phone up to his ear and waited for it to go to voicemail. “Hey, I know you’re on a job, but I couldn’t wait to tell you that you were wrong. She said ‘yes’, dickbag. Ha!” He smirked as he disconnected the call. “I’m just gonna text my best friend. You can start the car now.”

He tapped out a message with his thumbs. “Cas and Sam both said you’d turn me down so I had to, you know, hit ‘em with a ‘told you so’.”

You turned the engine over and started to drive toward your apartment. “Dean, when did you learn that song?”

“I figured someone with as good taste as you’ve got, maybe it wasn’t that shitty, so Wednesday night while you were in the shower, I Spotify’d Old Dominion. I liked that one… so I listened to it a few times… and on Thursday morning while you were still sleeping.” He clicked the button on the side of his phone and turned to you with a smile. “You know you’re amazing, right? Like, to be okay with the job, to still want to be with me… You’re amazing.”

“Come on, Dean. I’m not.” You shook your head.

“Yeah. You are.” He said it like it was the most certain thing in his world. “And you’re all mine.”

You smiled, but your heart was pounding as you spoke the next words. “Yeah, not until I meet  _your_ family.”

“You wanna meet my family already? A bunch of male escorts and a vegetarian food-blogger?”

“It’s only fair, Dean. I mean, you just spent the whole weekend with my family.”

Really, though, you needed to meet Adam so you could save him. You hated to meet Sam, but you could deal with it.

“All right, princess. I’ll set it up.”


	6. Handling It

**Warnings** : violence against the reader, angst, little bit of fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure about this? I mean, Adam was a bit of a dick to you?”

“He’s just a dumb kid. He doesn’t deserve to go out like that, Char.”

“Okay, but alternatively, you haven’t seen Sam this whole time you’ve been back in 2018 and just mentioning him gets your heart racing and can you-”

“Seriously, woman, if you say ‘Can you handle it’ one more time, I’m gonna explode. Like, full-on ‘Thunder from  _Big Trouble in Little China_ ’ explode. I can handle it.” You put the finishing touch on your eyeliner and turned to the small ginger woman. “This is pre-relapse Sam. This is ‘never met me, probably won’t give me a second look’ Sam. And besides, this isn’t  _about_ Sam. It’s about Adam.”

“Okay, but Sam’s gonna be there and-”

“And I took a Xanax already and I’ve got two more in my pocket. I’ll be okay.”

“You’ll call me if you aren’t, though?”

“I promise.”

“Okay. Good luck.” She wrapped you in a tight hug that she only released when Dean knocked on the door.

You smiled at Dean, standing in your doorway with a fake rose from the pharmacy down the street. When he handed it to you, the smell of his cologne hit your sense. “Aw. It smells like you!”

“I’ll put it in a Ziploc for you, so the smell stays,” Charlie offered, taking the rose from your hand and walking away.

“Figured it should smell like  _something_ , right?” Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he walked you to his car. “You nervous?”

You shook your head. “No,” you lied. Of course you were, but you couldn’t explain why. “I’m sure they’re great people.”

“Yeah. They are and they’re gonna love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam had to kick himself when Dean walked into Biggerson’s with y/n. Dean had said she was ‘real pretty’ but that had to be the biggest understatement of his brother’s life. Y/n was gorgeous, and he was sure that she had no clue until Dean took an interest in her. She carried herself with a confidence that was obviously new, and Sam saw flashes of doubt that made him want to do dirty things to her until she knew her place. A woman like that belonged on her knees, with a hard cock in her throat.

She seemed a little apprehensive as she took his hand and introduced herself, but Sam put on a smile and she seemed to melt a little. It was strange, how she’d interact easily with everyone, himself included, then something would flash in her eyes and she’d stiffen. He saw her physically shake herself out of whatever grabbed her mind twice before Dean put his hand on her knee, which seemed to stabilize her, somehow. When she described a contract she did as ‘such a Slytherin thing to do’, Sam’s eyes lit up.

“Are you a Slytherin?”

“Ya know, I always thought I’d be a Hufflepuff ‘cause I’m definitely a ‘friends first’ kinda chick who’d love to have my dorms next to the kitchens, but Pottermore put me in Ravenclaw. I think I probably would’ve been a hatstall in real life, though.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ve always thought I’d be a Gryffindor, but Pottermore put me in Slytherin, so I think I would’ve at least confused the hat.”

John gave a confused look to Dean, who shrugged. “Don’t ask me, Dad. My fantasy knowledge begins and ends at Hobbits and Elves.”

“A ‘hatstall’ is someone who embodies the characteristics of more than one Hogwarts house, making it difficult to figure out where they should go,” y/n informed.

“Yeah. If it takes more than five minutes to get Sorted, you’re a hatstall,” Sam filled in.

“Okay. Nerds.”

“Proudly.” Y/n smiled at Dean, but she looked away, bashfully, when her eyes caught Sam’s.

Sam followed Dean to the pie bar. “So, when you’re right, you’re right, dude. You said I’d like y/n and you were right.”

“Hmm-hn,” Dean hummed his agreement, not taking his eyes off of the pies.

“I mean, she’s smart. She’s nerdy and she’s pretty. She’s-”

“No.” Dean picked up a spatula and placed a piece of chocolate silk pie on his plate, moving further down the bar.

“You’re not even gonna ask her, Dean? What if she wants it?”

Dean turned to Sam, an unamused look in his eyes. “Three things, little brother. One, you intimidate the hell outta her. Two, y/n requires a soft touch and calm approach and you don’t got that, and three… what was it that Meg called Cas when she realized he was the complete package? When she saw he was smart and hot and dirty and sweet?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “A unicorn?”

“Right.” Dean smirked. “Y/n’s my unicorn and I ain’t sharin’.”

“She’s  _not_ intimidated by me,” Sam denied.

“She flinched every time you spoke and she couldn’t make eye contact.”

“She didn’t flinch  _every_ time and maybe she wasn’t making eye contact because she’s attracted to me and didn’t want  _you_ to see it.”

“Okay, fine.” Dean nodded and headed back to the table.

Y/n had Adam’s phone in her hands, turning it over to examine it and pressing the buttons experimentally. “I don’t know. My roommate’s an IT chick and she swears by the Androids but the Apples are so sleek!”

“Hey, princess, Sam was wondering if you’d be interested in a menage a trois,” Dean said, cutting into his pie with his fork.

“ _No_!” she exclaimed, face contorting with disgust and fear. She took a breath and composed her face as Dean smirked around a forkful of pie. “Sorry. That was… loud and… rude. No. Thanks. I’m good… good with a menage a deux.”

“Well, you tried, Sammy.” Dean reached out to pat Sam’s shoulder and Sam slapped his hand away.

“It’s  _Sam_ ,” he bit out, angrily. “I wasn’t trying to offend you, y/n, and I would’ve approached it with more  _tact_ -” Sam growled at Dean, who shrugged. “-I just think you’re very pretty and sometimes Dean and I work together so it wasn’t an unreasonable thought.”

She shook her head and handed Adam back his phone. “I’m not Dean’s client, I’m his girlfriend. That’d be cheating in my book, and one man is plenty enough for me, thanks.” She stood from her chair. “I’m gonna use the restroom.”

“Wow. You just met her and you’re already trying to steal her? Dick move,” Adam said, tucking his phone in his pocket.

“I’m not trying to steal her. I just thought-”

“Thought you’d come in with your fluffy hair and your big dick and she’d never be the same,” Dean accused.

“That’s not very nice, Dean. I’m sure Sam wasn’t trying-” John started.

“Doesn’t matter. She’s more into  _Adam_ than she is Sam.”

“Hey, she’s hot for a chunky chick, so if she ever  _does_ decide to double up on her Winchesters, I’m willing,” Adam said as his phone went off with a text.

“Yeah, in your dreams, kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?” Charlie asked as soon as the call connected.

“I’m fine. I mean, Sam just tried to get me and Dean to have a threesome and I’m having a bit of an issue dealing with the charming ‘never hurt me’ Sam, but that’s not why I called you. I’m handling that. I cloned Adam’s phone like you taught me. Some hyper-sexual messages from Ruby, some pictures I wish I could erase from my brain, but nothing about drugs. I don’t think it’s started, yet. So, can you do me a favor and find an address for Ruby Wilkes?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll text it to you. But you’re good?”

“Great.”

“Okay. Good. I’ll text you the address.”

You took a deep breath and exited the restroom. Your eyes fell on the table. Adam was gone. You pulled out the phone you cloned Adam’s info to and opened the texting app.  **Cum on over bae and we can hav a lot of fun i can make it better than u ever had**

“ _Fuck_.” You pulled out your phone and rushed out of the restaurant, flagging down a taxi. You read the address Charlie sent you to the cab driver and pulled a Xanax out of your pocket as he sped off toward the house. “Fuckin’… thought I had more time,” you whispered to yourself, throwing money at the cabbie before throwing yourself out of the back of the cab.

You didn’t so much knock on Ruby’s front door as much as slammed your fist against the wood. When she didn’t answer quick enough, you kicked the plate at the bottom of the door with the toe of your boot. “Who the hell are you?” Ruby demanded, jerking the door open.

“Go get Adam or I’m calling the cops,” you demanded.

“Adam who?”

“Adam Winchester. Let’s not play this game. Just go get him.”

“Y/n?” Adam stepped into the living room behind Ruby, a beer in his hand and a look of confusion on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m saving you from making a fatal fuckin’ mistake.”

“Adam, who  _is_ this bitch?”

“This is Dean’s new girlfriend. Y/n, how’d you even know where I was?”

“I cloned your phone when I was messing with it at dinner.”

“That’s illegal,” Ruby spat.

“Says the hooker with a junk kit on her table. Come on, Adam. Let’s go. I’m not gonna let her ruin your life like she almost did with Sam.”

“How do you even know about all this? Did Dean just tell you everything?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past Ruby into the living room. You grabbed the beer from Adam’s hand and set it on the closest surface, pulling him toward the door by the front of his shirt. “No!” Ruby said, forcefully, pulling a butterfly knife out of her pocket and flipping it open. “I already lost the better Winchester, I’m not losing this one, too.”

You looked down at the blade cradled in her dainty hand. A black handle offsetting a steel blade held in a hand with purple nails. It seemed fake. It didn’t elicit any feelings of fear in you. “You’re not gonna stab me,” you said, scoffing. You moved to pull Adam past her, but stopped short when Ruby launched herself at you.

The first deep plunge of the knife in your gut didn’t even register as pain, you were too shocked by it. Your eyes went wide, Adam shouted in the background as Ruby pulled back and stabbed you again and again until you fell to the ground at her feet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beeping greeted you as you slowly came back to consciousness. A steady  _beep, beep, beep_  that you fluttered your eyes open to. Dean’s green eyes were the first thing yours found after the haze cleared. “Dean? W-wha-”

He looked relieved to see your eyes open. “You’re in the hospital. Have been for two weeks. They… they put you in a coma after your third surgery so that you could sleep through the pain.”

“Wh-wh… surgery?”

Dean shook his head. “You got stabbed six times by a crazy junkie bitch.”

“Ruby,” you whispered. “I can’t believe she stabbed me.”

“Adam said you were there to drag him out before he… ended up like Sam.” Dean leaned forward, his eyes sad and confused. “But I never told you how Sam ended up an addict, y/n, so how’d you know? And how’d you know Ruby lured Adam to her place to get him hopped up on heroin?”

If you were a little more awake, a little less hazy from whatever they used to put you in a coma, you probably would’ve come up with a clever lie, but what came out was, “Have you ever had a wish come true?”

“What?” He shook his head, not understanding… and why would he?

“I knew it because it all happened before, Dean.” You sighed, looking away from his piercing emerald eyes. “I had a really bad year. Six months of hell, barely holding myself together.”

“What you take the pills for?” he whispered.

You nodded. “I had this boyfriend. He was amazing. He was smart and sweet and he defended me against my family. But he hurt me. He got high and he… It was Sam.”

“What? What the hell are you talking about? Hey, look at me.”

You shook your head and closed your eyes. “You’re not going to  _believe_ me. Charlie didn’t until I could prove it, but… I picked Sam the first time, not you. Sam took me to Maw-maw’s and he defended me and he made me feel worthy of love and attention for the first time in years and I was happy and then… then Ruby got Adam hooked on heroin and they overdosed right before New Years.”

“Sam relapsed,” he whispered.

“Yeah. And when I found… when I found him… said it yourself, Sam’s a big guy and he’s prone to violence when he’s coming down and he… he didn’t want to hear me saying that he needed to call Andy, that he needed to call  _you_.” You shuddered at the memory. “I wanted to act like it hadn’t happened. I… I was just gonna sleep until I could pretend everything was okay, but you came to see me and you told me… you said that I had to have ‘Honesty in the Aftermath’, that I had to show Sam what he did… for  _his_ good.” Tears picked at the edge of your eyes, gathering in your eyelashes.

“I loved him. I stayed. You and I focused on Sam’s recovery. It was six months of sickness and horribleness, but we… we became close friends. You were the only thing that kept my PTSD at bay, after a while… the only one I felt safe around. I fell for you, but I was fighting it… because I couldn’t leave Sam… I thought he needed me… but he didn’t need me. He… he started dating this nurse on the side. Not a client, just someone who he clicked with, one of the nurses taking care of Adam in his coma…” You swallowed, biting at the inside of your cheek. “I just… I was already so broken and then he cheated on me and… I made a wish. I wished that I could come back to the day I picked Sam off of Bobby’s website and pick you instead and… and… and it worked.”

“You… wished yourself back in time?” he asked, slowly.

“You don’t have to believe me, Dean.”

“Of  _course_ I believe you.” Your eyes snapped open to look at him, shock filling you. “That’s the only way you could know everything. I’ve never mentioned Andy’s name to you, never said shit about his ‘Honesty in the Aftermath’ thing.” He chewed roughly on his bottom lip. “This is why it felt like you knew me from the moment we met, because you  _did_. You knew every button to press to get me goin’ crazy over you. The car, the pie, the Zeppelin. You fuckin’ played me from the beginning, didn’t you?”

You looked away again. This felt like the moment you were going to lose everything. “I just wanted a chance to do it right this time. I’m sorry. I never should have-”

“Did I love you in the future?” he interrupted.

You shrugged. “I know you wanted me. I know you supported me. I can’t speak to your heart, but… it felt like you did.”

“Look at me,” he commanded. You bit your lip, trying to keep the tears in as you turned your eyes to him. “Did you fake it all just to get with me? Are you really… are you really that woman?”

“None of me was fake. I just… I knew which parts of me to show you and when be-because I knew you,” you whispered.

His jaw ticked, the muscle tensing. “I won’t have you lie to me, y/n. From now on, no more secrets.”

“Wait… from… from now on? You’re not-”

He gave a scoffing chuckle. “Gonna dump the chick who saved my brothers from themselves? The woman who could have walked away from every Winchester after what Sam did, but stuck around, anyway? Who wished herself back in time and put herself in harm’s way to save Adam from Ruby instead of just letting it happen? The woman who made me fall for her by showing me the right parts of her at the right time?” He shook his head, that lovely softness taking over his eyes. “You saved Sam by saving Adam. You didn’t have to do that. I don’t think most people would have. But you… I’ve thought you were special from day one, princess… and I was right.”

“Dean…”

“You took a knife to the gut… six times, for  _my_ brothers, one of who broke your heart and did worse to your body. I don’t… you  _have_ to know how important family is to me and… you just threw yourself into the fray without even-”

“I didn’t think she was gonna stab me,” you admitted, quietly, a bit in shock that he wasn’t mad at you, that he wasn’t leaving you.

“Because you were too focused on saving the kid to think about the danger.” Dean stood, leaning over you and taking your face in his hands. “You’re amazing, y/n. Thank you.”

“You… you’re really going to stay?”

“Nowhere I’d rather be, princess,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours. The moan that rumbled through you hurt the stab wounds in your stomach and you whimpered, making him pull back. “Sorry. Have to get ‘em in to give you some morphine or something. I’ll be right back. Gonna go tell the doc you’re awake… and then I gotta call Charlie. She’s been going crazy with you in this bed.”

“Hey, Dean?” He stopped halfway to the door and turned to you. “What happened to Ruby?”

His lips twisted into a smirk. “She’s rotting without bond in Cook County Jail. Sittin’ on an Assault with a Deadly and an Attempted Murder charge, along with Paraphernalia and Possession. I don’t think we’ll be seein’ her for a while.”

You nodded, tiredly. “That’s good. Everybody’s safe, then.”

“Yeah… thanks to you, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

As he walked out, you smiled. Dean knew and he wasn’t angry. He still wanted to be with you. Sure, you had several extra holes in your stomach that were going to be heck to deal with for a few weeks, but you’d saved Adam from overdose, saved Sam from relapse, saved yourself from Sam’s relapse, and you didn’t ruin what you’d built with Dean. That was a success if ever you had one.


	7. Shiny

**Warnings** : mentions of assault, mentions of prostitution, mentions of past sexual assault, little bit of angst

* * *

Dean stood in the hallway outside y/n’s room. He hadn’t been back in since he left to retrieve the doctor. His mind was in overdrive. He couldn’t really  _believe_ her, could he? Yes, she had a habit of knowing things she had no business knowing, like that time she insisted he take a long detour because it was going to be the quicker way home and lo and behold, there was a wreck on the interstate that would’ve caught them in traffic for hours. And she knew that Bobby’s wife was Ellen and she ran the Sex Kittens. And how she acted about Sam, how she seemed to get along with him so well for short bursts until she remembered who she was talking to. He was toying with the idea that she had some low-grade ESP, which was fun, but  _time travel_?

A flash of red hair flying at him down the corridor pulled him from his thoughts and he stepped in front of the door to block Charlie. “Tell me she’s not crazy.”

“What?”

“You’ve known her almost a decade. Tell me she’s not some delusional schizophrenic or somethin’.”

Charlie sighed, softly, and stepped away from the door. “She told you?”

“Yeah, wish fulfillment in the form of time travel. It’s fuckin’ nuts.  _She’s_ fuckin’ nuts.”

“Look, I had trouble with it, too, at first. But I think even if she hadn’t predicted every upset of the Midterms and the jump in Roman stock prices, I think I would’ve believed her eventually, because I  _have_ known her for nine years, Dean, and she came back from the future broken.” Dean bit his lip as Charlie looked around and lowered her voice. “When I handed my laptop to her, she was this… happy, mostly-confident chick whose only real Achilles’ Heel was her stupid fuckin’ family. When I walked out of my room, not ten minutes later, she had PTSS and a haunted look in her eye like the guy in the mailroom at the Holy Roman Empire. I don’t know how much she told you, dude, but when she described what he did to her… I still wanna turn him into Lord Varys, even though I know  _this_ Sam didn’t do it.”

“She just said he got high and hurt her… but I can read between.”

“What you’re imagining isn’t half the reality. It can’t be.”

“I know what Sam’s like when he’s high, sweetheart. I made the mistake of letting him forget he almost choked me to death, but  _I’ve_ never forgotten.”

“Fine, then you can see how amazing it is that she’s got a healthy sex life with you after that. She has nightmares, she’s twitchy and glitchy. She’s seeing a shrink, going to support group therapy, but she’s  _not_ crazy. It happened, okay?”

Dean took a deep breath. “She’s in love with my brother.”

“No. Not after all that-”

“She stayed for six fuckin’ months after he  _raped_ her. No way that kinda love just disappears because he cheated. Grand scheme, cheating’s much less of a big deal.” Dean ran his hand through his hair. “I bet… if she hadn’t wished herself away, if he’d apologized, she’d’ve taken him back.”

“She’s been all about you and saving Adam since she got back, Dean. He hasn’t even been a happy thought. She’s been focused on you.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was focused on me when they were bonding over Hogwarts Houses and he was ogling her across the table and-”

“Dude!” Charlie reached up and lightly slapped his cheek. “She has screaming nightmares about him. She was super offended when he suggested a three-way the night she got stabbed. She’s got it bad for  _you_ , Dean. She said something like… you make her feel safe and happy and that she was in love with you for a long time before Sam just completely fucked her over… she just couldn’t act on it because she thought Sam might go off the rails if she did, which… everything she told me about that relationship, he might’ve gone to some crack house just to spite her if-”

“That’s my brother you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” Dean practically growled.

“Yeah, your brother from another timeline who she  _doesn’t_ love, anymore. Seriously.” Charlie rolled her eyes, exaggeratedly. “She’s in love with you. You make her feel safe and happy. That’s all that should matter, especially with her in this frakkin’ hospital.”

Dean stepped back, nodding. His jealousy could take a backseat until she was okay. “Yeah. All right.”

Charlie pushed off from the wall and whipped into room. Y/n’s eyes lit up as her two favorite people walked in and Dean couldn’t help but wonder how she managed to look so radiant even in a hospital bed. “See? This is what happens when you mess with the timeline, bitch.  _You_ end up in a coma instead of the kid.”

“It was a medically-induced, two week long  _nap_ compared to the vegetative state Adam would’ve been in.”

Charlie kissed her temple and climbed into bed with her. “Doesn’t matter. Promise me you’re never gonna do this shit again. Seeing you all hooked up to machines, a tube down your throat… I knew they were gonna wake you up, but sometimes people don’t wake up and… I already spend my Christmas in a hospice.”

Y/n leaned her head against the smaller woman’s shoulder as Dean sat in the chair next to the bed. “I’m sorry, Char. I really didn’t intend to end up in a coma. Still can’t believe that bitch stabbed me.”

“Six times. That bitch stabbed you six times,” Dean reminded. “Doctor said half of your liver looked like ground beef.”

“Lovely imagery.” Y/n chuckled and winced at the pain it caused her.

“Carol said the same thing, but she said it with a look on her face like she was smelling dog shit,” Charlie said.

Y/n grimaced. “Carol was here?”

“Briefly,” Dean answered. “Just long enough to berate me for my family drama causing you to get attacked by, and I’m quoting, ‘some tiny feral druggie whore’.”

“Your parents are still in town… staying at our apartment.”

“What?!” Y/n straightened, hissed in pain, bit her lip and took a deep breath.

Charlie patted y/n’s knee. “Don’t worry. I went through your room when they said they were gonna be crashing at our place. I hid your toys in my room, put a better password on your laptop and cleaned your dirty laundry. They shouldn’t have anything to mess with you on.”

“You are the  _best_ best friend.”

“What kinda toys?” Dean asked, eyebrows raising suggestively.

“Exactly the kind you’re thinking of, Winchester. You got a problem with it?”

Dean shook his head, smirking slightly. “No problem. ‘Cept now I got this video playin’ in my head of you… like a cam girl video.”

Y/n scoffed, her smirk lighting up her eyes. “No one records me, D. Once that shit’s on the internet, it’s forever.”

“Can confirm. There’s this terrible paparazzi pic of Carrie Fisher that I take down every time I see it, but I always find it again a few months later,” Charlie said.

“Hey, no one said it had to go on the internet. Maybe you can be a cam girl just for me,” Dean winked and y/n shook her head.

“Yeah, I’ve got too much damage to put on a show for anybody right now, but thanks.”

“Maybe when you get out of the hospital, huh?”

“Any ideas on when that’s gonna be?” Charlie asked.

“Dr. Stephens said he wants to keep me a few days for observation.” Y/n rolled her eyes. “It’d be so shiny if I could just go home.”

“Shiny? Is that a nerdism or did the coma fuck up your head?” Dean asked.

“ _Firefly_ ,” y/n and Charlie said at the same time.

“It means, like, ‘cool’ or ‘awesome’. It would be so awesome to just go home,” y/n said.

“I can’t wait for you to get back home, either. That way, I can kick your parents out of our gorram apartment,” Charlie said, wrapping her arm around y/n’s shoulder.

“Now you’re just makin’ shit up,” Dean said, leaning back in the chair and kicking his feet up on the end of the bed.

“Nope. Joss Whedon made that shit up,” y/n responded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, man, she’s fine. I’m takin’ her home today.” Dean’s voice filtered through the heavy door into the hospital room. You were pretending to sleep since Sam showed up, eyes open just enough to see their shadows on the window.

“You guys don’t want any help? I mean, she can’t be very mobile,” Sam asked, looking through the window at you.

“I got it,” Dean snapped.

“What’s your problem, Dean? I’m just trying to help.”

“We don’t need your help.”

“Seriously, what did I do? Is this about the three way thing, because I’m not planning to-” Sam sighed heavily. “She made herself clear that she’s not interested. I just want to help. I mean, she pulled Adam out of Ruby’s house. Things could have been so bad and she-”

“Yeah, I know, Sam!” Dean exclaimed. “I know  _exactly_ how bad things coulda gone… and I understand that we, as a family, are very grateful to y/n for what she did, but I do not need your help with her right now. What I need is for you to give us some space. Okay?”

There was silence for several minutes and you opened your eyes. “Okay. Yeah, okay. Let me know when you wanna tell me what the hell I did to deserve this attitude.”

Dean’s face as Sam disappeared from your view said he knew Sam didn’t deserve the attitude. There was guilt in his eyes over it, but he just shook his head and walked into your room. “Hey, princess. You ready to get the hell outta here?”

“Can’t wait.” You bit your lip. “You should be nicer to him. He didn’t do anything.”

Dean shook his head. “He didn’t do anything because you picked me this time,  _but_ …” He sat on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his. “When you picked him… when you loved him… he-”

“Stop. Dean, just… please don’t overthink this. Let’s just focus on now. Now I am about to get out of the hospital and I’m gonna get to go home and everything’s gonna be okay.”

Dean kissed your knuckles. “I know. I know everything’s okay. I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ll deal with it eventually, princess.” He smirked, an idea crossing his mind. “Did I call you ‘princess’ in the other timeline?”

You nodded, smiling. “Yeah. That’s why I couldn’t keep myself from kissing you the first time you said it, here. Because I know you call your clients ‘sweetheart’, but ‘princess’ is special.”

“It’s so weird that you have all these memories of me that I’m never gonna share.” He shook his head. “Did you sign your discharge papers?”

“Yeah. The registrar said the nurse is gonna be around with my aftercare instructions in a few. Then, I can finally get out of here.”

“So, tell me some stories of the other timeline while we wait, huh? Like, I was your Chevy-head friend that taught you about cars, right? How’d that happen?”

You chuckled. “My clutch started slipping.” Dean’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah, really. I took it to the shop at the Ford dealership and they gave me a loaner, which was this huge F250 that I was so uncomfortable in that I was just gonna eat the cost of taxis or a rental of something smaller. You never liked the thought of me in an Uber. Oh, especially if I’m not sober, you never let me take an Uber.”

“Bad things happen to drunk chicks in Ubers.”

“That’s what you said at Bobby and Ellen’s Christmas party. It’s why you insisted on driving me home.”

“Why wasn’t Sam driving you home?”

“I was escaping. That was the night I met Adam and got my first look at the Rubies, I was surrounded by gorgeous, sexual women and I just wanted to go home. Between Bobby’s eggnog and Meg’s whiskey, I was super drunk by the time my cab showed, so you took me home, instead.” You smiled at the memory of him helping you to your door. “I kissed you. I was drunk and lost in your eyes and I kissed you.”

“And felt guilty about it when you got sober, right?”

You nodded. “It was the only time I kissed you before the wish. I chalked it up to the alcohol, but once you and I started spending all our time together…”

“You realized you loved me?” He smiled softly as he asked it.

You nodded. “Around the end of March, I had this dream. I remember it because it was the first dream I’d had since New Years that didn’t end up a nightmare, and it was just you and me laid out on the hood of your car staring at the night sky. It wasn’t anything sexual, I wasn’t in a mental space for that, but… it made me feel like things were okay, like things  _could_ be okay again.” You smiled and scooted forward, wrapping your arms around him. “Didn’t take long for me to realize that the only time I didn’t feel like I was drowning was when I was with you.”

Dean chuckled, wrapping an arm lightly around your waist. “You’re supposed to be telling me about teaching you cars.”

“Oh, yeah.” You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You didn’t want me in Ubers, so you volunteered to drive me around until my car got fixed. One morning, you started in on a tangent about how your car was so much better than mine and I asked you to justify your argument. You listed a dozen reasons why the Impala was better and I… I didn’t understand most of what you said, so I asked you to teach me. Ended up covered in grease in your garage more times than I can count.”

“Sounds sexy.”

“Oh, you were very sexy. First overtly sexual thoughts I had in 2019 were because you were all sweaty and sexy bent over the engine telling me about the differences in the 327 and the 502 and all I could think about was how great your ass looked in those jeans. You had to explain it, like, three times because I kept fantasizing about you bending me over the hood.”

He shook you with a chuckle. “We haven’t done that one, yet. When you’re feeling up to it, we’ll have to get sweaty and greasy together.”

“Is it weird that I kinda want to say ‘fuck me’ anyway, even though I know it’ll mess me up?”

“If I were a little less worried about internal bleeding, I’d do it. Haven’t worked since you been in the hospital so I am full of pent-up energy.”

You turned your head to look up at him. “You haven’t seen a client in almost three weeks?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. He leaned away slightly and looked down at you. “My girl was in the hospital. I couldn’t go fuck those other women knowing you were here.” You leaned up and captured his lips, twisting on the bed and getting up on your knees to better the angle. He moaned into your mouth, hands grasping at the blanket to keep from grabbing you. You pulled his bottom lip in between your teeth and nibbled, lightly. He pulled back, shaking his head. “Baby, you can’t do this. You know I can’t control myself when it comes to you and I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You flopped backward, pouting. “Fine.”

“Don’t pout.” He rolled his eyes and stood. He adjusted his jeans, pulling on the legs. “Grown woman pouting about not gettin’ dicked,” he muttered.

“I am not pouting about that. I just wanted to help you with your pent-up energy and you didn’t want me to, that’s all.”

“Oh, don’t flip this on me, woman. You’ve got six extra holes in your middle and half a functional liver. Just ‘cause you’re horny, that doesn’t mean I gotta give in and do something that might hurt you, okay?” Dean leaned over you, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Maybe we could do something that wouldn’t-”

“Uh-huh, sure. Tell me something that wouldn’t make your muscles tense up, that wouldn’t hurt you… and it  _would_ hurt, y/n, because you don’t even have any meds in your system.” He sat back down on the bed and raised an eyebrow at you. “‘Cause they’re opiates?”

You shrugged. You didn’t think he’d noticed you requested to be taken off the morphine and wouldn’t let them put you on anything even slightly addictive. “Opioids got me into this mess… all of my mess.”

Dean sighed, heavily. “What Sam did, that wasn’t your mess.”

“I don’t agree. It sure made a mess of me.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak again, but the door opened and a short brunette nurse walked in. You tensed, fighting back a groan of pain as it sent a jolt through you, looking away from Eileen’s smiling face. “You are all set. Here’s how you take care of your wounds and here is your prescriptions.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” you said, signing it, still not looking at her face as you took the papers from her hands.

Dean put a hand on your knee, squeezing gently. “Can she go now?”

Eileen nodded. “If you have any problems, call the doctor. The number is on the top sheet. Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Dean said, grabbing your elbow and helping you off of the bed. “Gotta question Sam’s judgment, fuckin’ around on you with her.”

You shrugged, pulling your jacket on as Eileen disappeared from the room. “You told me that Sam makes really bad decisions, sometimes. But she seems okay and she’s pretty.”

“She’s all right, but I dunno. Any chick that would sleep with a guy when she knows he’s got a woman at home… kinda low.”

“It’s not a big deal. It didn’t happen,” you said quietly.

“It happened for you.” He wrapped his arm around you and walked you out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Welcome home!”

You gasped, adrenaline coursing through you as you walked into your living room and a half a dozen people shouted at you. Charlie stood in the corner, looking a bit exasperated. The surprise was obviously not her idea, since she knew that surprises were not the best idea for someone with your mental condition. Your mother and father, Carol and TJ, and your associates Sherry and Deedee were more enthusiastic. “Oh, my god! You guys! This is…” You tried to sound appreciative, but Dean could hear the falseness and placed a hand on your lower back to show his support.

“Well, we couldn’t let you come home to an empty apartment, could we?” your mom asked, walking forward to hug you.

“What am I, tauntaun druk?” Charlie groaned.

“No one knows what that means,” Carol spat at her.

“I know what it means,” you defended, pulling away from your mom.

“And anyone with basic common sense could figure it out based on context clues,” Dean backed Charlie up, wrapping his arms around you to keep everyone else from being able to embrace you. “But I forgot who was speaking.”

“Charming, Dean.” Carol sneered as she spoke. “Explain to me why you’re here when your trash family put her in the hospital.”

“Whoa.” You pulled away from Dean, glaring at your sister. “First off, I ended up in the hospital because  _I_  rushed into a bad situation without considering all of the possible consequences. No one put me in the hospital except me and Ruby Wilkes. And if you’re going to talk shit about Dean’s family, you can fuckin’ leave, because they’re good people. They’re smart, passionate, loving people and, of  _course_ you’d think that’s trashy because you don’t know what class is.”

“What Kool-aid did they force down your throat, huh?” Carol stepped closer. “What about these junkie assholes instills such loyalty from you? He can’t be  _that_ good in bed.”

Your instinct to cower from a confrontation was overridden by your  _need_ to deal with Carol. “First, you’re wrong about that. He’s amazing in bed. Better than I’ve ever had and better than you’ve ever had, either. Second, there is only one  _junkie_  in that family and he wasn’t in that house when I got stabbed. Third, the Kool-aid they served me was called ‘Love and fuckin’ respect’ which I haven’t gotten in a long fuckin’ time. And fourth, get the hell out of my apartment. All of you. I’m tired and in pain and I don’t wanna have a party tonight, so leave.”

Everyone looked taken aback by your outburst, but you ignored it as you grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him toward your bedroom. “Deedee, Sherry, I’ll see you at 7am Monday. Don’t be late!”

“You’re going back to work, already?” Dean asked as you pulled him along the hallway and Charlie shoo’ed everyone away.

“Yeah. I can’t sit around just doing nothing. It’s not… it’s not in me,” you said, pushing open your door and lying down on your bed, carefully, slowly, making sure not to jostle yourself too much.

“Princess… you okay?”

“I couldn’t have them talking about you and your family like that… Carol is…”

“Yeah, I know, baby, but… you kinda exploded.” Dean knelt on the bed next to you and you looked over at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I just… can we just lie down and get some rest?”

“Yeah. Yeah, baby, let’s get some rest.” Dean dropped to your bed, kicking off his boots and slipping under your blanket. You snuggled into his side and waited for sleep to claim you.

Your dreams pulled you back to the months that never happened, to the night of the party, to the night everything came to a head and your world crashed around you. “ _Don’t you wish- Don’t you wish- Don’t you wish-_ ”

You gasped as your eyes snapped open. “It was Anya!”


	8. Return Trip

**Warnings** : mentions of assault, mentions of prostitution, mentions of past sexual assault, untreated PTSD, toxic relationship, controlling behavior, mentions of possible miscarriage

* * *

“Who?” Dean’s voice was deep with sleep, his throat a little scratchy, as he leaned up on his elbow and looked down at you.

“Anya! Jenkins or Johnson… no, it was definitely Jenkins.” You sat up, groaning at the pain in your stomach, and Dean followed with a yawn. “She was a cocaine addict, never really seemed to get the whole ‘anonymous’ part of Narcotics Anonymous. She was in Sam’s Monday meeting. She kinda always clung to me when I showed up at the meetings, tried to get me to be her friend, I guess. She showed up in January, said she just moved to Chicago, she didn’t have anyone in the city, her sponsor was still back in Milwaukee. I always blew her off because-”

You swung your feet off the bed and stood, starting to pace. “-I wasn’t in the program, I was just there as Sam’s support system. But every time she saw me, she’d start talking to me about how she wished she’d never met her ex that got her hooked, how she wished his head would explode or he’d get leprosy and die. I always thought she was just not understanding the whole ‘take inventory’ thing but she was trying to get me to make a wish!”

Dean stilled your pacing by grabbing your hand. “Calm down. Last thing we need is you to spring a leak ‘cause your blood pressure’s too high. Just breathe, okay?” You took a deep breath, looking in his eyes as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Now,  _calmly_ , what makes you think she was trying to get you to make a wish?”

“Because she always said ‘Don’t you wish’ and then she’d make some outlandish… thing… like, ‘Don’t you wish his face would be eaten by a rabid monkey’, and she was there! She was at the party. She was in the hallway when I went off on Sam. She was right there, between your dad and Eileen, watching. She probably followed you out!”

“Okay. Breathe. So, you figured out how you got here. Why’s it matter?”

“What?”

“Someone, probably this Anya chick, granted your wish, and why is that a bad thing? You’re here… with  _me_. That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Dean, she spent six months trying to get me to make this wish! How can that be  _good_? I-I mean, have you ever seen a movie where genie wishes work out? And she was on me to wish for a whole six fuckin’… I got  _stabbed_ , Dean, but what if there’s more bad coming? What if something happens to you or Charlie? I’d never forgive myself.”

Dean licked his lips and nodded. “Okay, princess. We’ll find her, figure out what she’s got planned.” He pulled gently on your hand. “After you get some more rest, baby. You need it.”

You nodded, climbing into bed with him and snuggling into his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Anya Jenkins does not exist,” Charlie announced, walking into the kitchen with her laptop. She smiled as she set the computer in front of you. “ _Anyanka_ the demon of vengeance, however, has been around for a thousand years.”

“Since when do demons grant wishes?” you asked, pushing the screen back to get rid of the glare so you could read.

“Since always. Just, you usually gotta sell your soul to get your wish granted,” Dean answered, reading over your shoulder as he took a bite of his doughnut.

“You get powdered sugar on my shirt, I’m gonna slap you, Winchester.”

“Sorry.” He brushed the hand not holding the doughnut across your shoulder and took a step back. “So, vengeance demon?”

You nodded. “Yeah. This says Anyanka specializes in causing pain to men. I don’t know how she found me, but she knew… knew about Sam hurting me.”

“Everyone knew about Sam hurting you. He admitted it in group, didn’t he?” Charlie reminded.

“So maybe someone summoned her  _for_ me?”

“Well… we could always summon her and ask,” Dean suggested, pointing at the bottom of the screen where a summoning spell was listed.

“I guess I could do that. What’s a little witchcraft in the grand scheme of things?”

“I said we could summon her. You aren’t doin’ it alone,” Dean insisted. “You’re barely out of the hospital. You aren’t summoning a demon without backup.”

“Probably won’t work, anyway. But thank you for being here, D.” Dean pressed his lips to the top of your head and smiled at you. “There’s powdered sugar in my hair, isn’t there?”

He chuckled. “Little bit,” he admitted.

“Thanks. I needed a shower, anyway.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The new age shop smelled like patchouli and a number of herbs you couldn’t identify, burning in a large bowl on the counter. “Welcome to  _Marula’s Treasures_. Merry meet. How can I assist you today?”

“Yeah, we actually need everything on this list,” Dean said, presenting the woman behind the counter with a handwritten list of herbs and stones and specific-colored candles.

“Oh. This is quite a lot. What are you doing with all of this?”

“Summoning a demon,” Dean said, deadpan. The woman’s eyes widened until Dean laughed. “No, we’re just setting up in a new apartment and my girl’s altar got messed up in the move. We’re just restocking.” You smiled at the lie. Maybe because it flowed so easily from his lips, or maybe because it supposed a time where you and Dean would be living together, you weren’t sure which.

“Oh, okay. I’ve got all of this. Let me gather it for you.”

Dean turned back around to see you looking at a wall of little bottles. Anointing oils, essential oils, fragrance oils… you weren’t exactly sure what the difference was, besides several dollars per ounce. “Any of ‘em smell like pie?” he asked, walking up.

“There’s an apple fragrance one, but no… no pie.”

“Lame.” He wrapped his arms around you, lightly, dropping his chin onto the top of your head. “I got some massage oil that’s cherry pie flavored.”

“Don’t you mean ‘scented’?”

“No. No, I don’t.”

You chuckled, slightly, as the woman approached. “You two are so cute. You have a long string, like it’s been stretched past its limits, but your hearts are definitely destined.”

“What?” you turned to her, confused.

“Red Thread of Fate. Eastern Asian soulmate legend,” Dean said, dismissively. You looked up at him in shock. “What? I know stuff! Bobby spent a few years in Japan. He’s got a bunch of awesome books.”

“Your thread is tattered, tangled, there’s an actual knot close to her heart, but you’re meant to be.”

“Uh, thanks. How much do we owe you?” you asked, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze.

“$57.79.”

You pulled out three twenties and handed them over. “I don’t need any change. Thanks.” You took the bag from her hand and rushed out to the Impala. “Chick was creepy!”

“Aww, she wasn’t that bad. She just spent too long on the ‘Crazy Mystic Cold-reading Class’. What else should she say to a happy couple who just told her that they took a big step in their relationship?” The Impala roared to life and Dean pulled away from the little shop. “Let’s go summon a demon.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The preparation for the spell took longer that dropping the match into the bowl with the herbs and saying the Latin incantation.

“What?” You and Dean turned to her and you gasped. It was Anya, definitely, but her face was covered in thick, dark veins. “Why did you summon me?”

“Do you… do you remember me?”

“Of course I remember you, and I recognize my handiwork.” She gestured broadly. “What do you want?”

“I’m sorry, but how did you not know this woman was a demon? Look at her!” Dean exclaimed.

“I’m actually considered quite beautiful in the demon world, you neanderthal, but when I speak to humans, I usually make myself look like you people. Now, y/n, what do you want?”

“You granted my wish.”

“Yes.”

“I came back. I fixed things. I mean, I changed them, but… wishes don’t work out. I got stabbed, I got hurt. I have to know if more bad is coming.”

Anya blinked at you, tilting her head in confusion. “Bad?” She scoffed. “You think it’s  _my_ fault that you got stabbed? Did I make you go into that house?”

“No, but demons don’t just grant wishes out of the goodness of their hearts!” you exclaimed.

“Fine! You wanna go back?”

“I didn’t  _say_ that! Of course I don’t want to go back! I’ve fixed things here, I just-”

“Are ungrateful and think I did this to set you up. I did this for  _you_! I did this because I could hear your heart  _screaming_  from Arashmahar. What that man did to you? You’re  _still_ broken. But fine, let’s get this  _It’s A Wonderful Life_  shit out of the way so you can understand that I have  _saved_ you.”

“No, no, no, don’t send her-”

“You can go, too, asshole. So that you can get it through your thick, male skull.” Anya waved her arms in a sweeping circle and everything changed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were lying on your side in bed, but not your bed. Sam’s bed. You moved slowly as you took in your surroundings, fear and uncertainty making your limbs feel like you were moving through molasses. The calendar on the wall was marked off to August 19. Time kept going while you were away. Almost two months of life, of decisions that you didn’t make but would’ve made… decisions that landed you naked in Sam’s bed again.

You fought the urge to flee. Fleeing would wake the naked giant in bed behind you. You had to sneak. You started to shake when you moved to pull your underwear on and felt the sticky mess between your legs that must’ve leaked out while you were sleeping. You fought back a wave of nausea and dressed quickly, slipping your shoes on and grabbing your phone from the side table. You rushed out of the bedroom, grabbing your purse off the couch and headed for the door. You stopped at the mirror on the living room wall. You were hit with more nausea at the sight on you.

To say you looked worse than you had on June 30 would be an understatement. You were another ten or fifteen pounds lighter, your eyes more sunk-in, your skin pasty and covered in acne and your hair was thinning. A thin black beanie you recognized as Charlie’s was hanging on the hook by the door. It had strands of your hair sticking out of it. You grabbed it, slipped it over your head and left without giving yourself another look. You had to figure out how you got here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean hit redial for the sixth time, trying to get through to y/n. “Come on!” Panic was eating at him. The familiar surroundings of his apartment seemed completely unfamiliar, everything seemed just a little  _off_ and cold. “Answer the fuckin’ phone, woman!”

He didn’t immediately hit redial this time, taking a moment to go through his phone to see if anything caught his eyes. His background was a picture of him and y/n, sitting on the hood of the Impala. He’d noticed it as soon as he’d unlocked the thing, but now he examined it. She had dark rings under her eyes. He could see them even through the makeup she wore, much more makeup than y/n wore in the other timeline. She was thinner in the picture than back in 2018, but every bit of instinct he had told him that wasn’t a good thing. They both wore smiles in the picture but there was a sadness in their eyes.

Dean went through the photo album on the phone. Two dozen selfies with y/n, each with her looking more and more ragged and him leaning closer and closer like he felt he could protect her from her mind if he just got close enough.

He looked for pictures of Sam, but found only one. Just the picture of Sam from his Stanford Law School graduation. The pre-Ruby, full of potential, Samuel Winchester: Esquire.

Dean redialed y/n’s number and put his phone to his ear. “Please answer, please answer, please answer,” he whispered. The phone clicked and he sighed in relief.

“Dean?” y/n whispered.

“Yeah, princess, it’s me. What, uh,  _where_ are you?”

“Are you…” She trailed off, obviously not sure how to ask if he was now-Dean or then-Dean.

“Yeah, I’m your Dean, y/n. Where’d that crazy demon bitch drop you?” The silence on the other side of the phone bugged him. “Y/n?”

“I don’t wanna get into it over the phone, D. Can we meet somewhere? Denny’s or Biggerson’s or something?”

“All right. Uh… back room at Denny’s?”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you there.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You adjusted the beanie on your head and double-checked your makeup before getting out of your car and heading into the diner. The Impala was in the parking lot so you knew where you’d find Dean; sitting in the back room in the corner under the camera. You slid into the booth across from him, not missing the way his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes filled with concern. “You look like crap,” he whispered, leaning forward.

“What a nice thing to say to your girlfriend.” You rolled your eyes. “Did you think I was exaggerating?”

“No, I mean… last picture of you I have in my phone is from June 15. I was expecting that,  not…”

“Yeah, well, I guess it got worse since the party. Look, we got problems.”

“What, besides the crazy demon chick hurtling us through time and space like a veiny Doctor Who?”

You didn’t correct him on The Doctor vs. Doctor Who or the fact that the TARDIS does the actual travel. “Yes, besides that.”

Dean licked his lips and nodded. “Okay. Where’d you wake up?”

You looked down, not wanting to see his face when you told him. “At Sam’s.”

“You went back to him.” Dean’s voice was tight, full of pain and accusations.

“Yeah, I don’t think I had much of a choice. I started going through my phone, trying to piece together the last seven weeks that I don’t remember and I found this picture.” You flipped your phone to show him the picture that had made you want to cry.

Dean bit his bottom lip, harshly, as he took the phone and stared at the three pregnancy tests, all different brands, all positive. He swallowed, his jaw ticking, and handed the phone back. “Well, mazel tov. Sam’s always wanted kids.”

“It’s not his.”

Green eyes snapped to attention, widening slightly. “What?”

“Yeah, that pic freaked me out, so I went to my text chain. Figured I would see what I said to Charlie about it.” You held up your texting app to his view.

**How do I tell them about the baby?**

**You DON’T tell Sam He might hurt you or go get high or kill himself or something if you sayits not his Dean, tho… why don’t you just leave him a voicemail like he did for you?**

“Which, of course, prompted me to go check my voicemails.” You pulled up your voicemail box and hit play on the last saved message, dated 7/3/2019. You put it on speaker and placed the phone on the table.

_“Hey, uh, y/n. *static* I’ve been thinking about the other night and… I took advantage of your pain and I am so… it was fucked up. I’m sorry. I knew it was a bad idea and… I never shoulda slept with you, y/n. Um, Sam… Sam feels real quilty about how he treated you. He, uh, checked himself into a hospital for a psych eval, said it’s the only way he could keep himself from relapsing or-or hurting himself. I just… *static* I know he wouldn’t handle me being with you, y/n. I love you and you are so important to me. You’re the… the best friend I’ve got except Cas but… god, it kills me to say this but, Sam’s my brother. I already lost Adam. I can’t lose Sam, too. I can’t be with you if it’s gonna hurt him. I’m sorry. What happened the night of the party, it can’t ever happen again.”_

You gave a tight smile as you picked up your phone. “So, I guess, when he got out of his self-imposed suicide watch, he must’ve apologized and I… I had no hope for better so I took him back.”

“Is it weird that I feel bad about something I didn’t even do?” Dean whispered.

“Well, you were gonna make me feel bad about being with Sam again and I didn’t do  _that_.” You shrugged.

“I’m sorry, princess.” Dean reached over and took your hand in his.

“Dean! Y/n! Long time, no see you two together!” Lou, your favorite server, walked over and set two mugs down in front of you and Dean, filling them both to the brim. “Two Lumberjacks, extra bacon?”

“Yeah, Lou. Thanks. And, uh…” Dean picked up your coffee mug and handed it to the server. “Go ahead and switch this to decaf for her, please.”

Lou smiled as he walked away. “Decaf? Decaf isn’t even real coffee, Dean,” you said, watching Lou disappear into the back.

“Caffeine is bad for babies.”

“So?” You weren’t thinking about what might harm the baby. You weren’t ready to treat the baby like it was a real thing.

“ _So_ , we don’t know how long we’re gonna be here,  _if_  Anya even lets us go back. You’re not fuckin’ my kid up because you think you need real coffee,” Dean snapped, making you flinch at his tone. You looked down, then nodded. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to… you’re really fuckin’-”

You shrugged. “This is me without the meds, Dean. This is… this is  _me_.”

“Okay. It’s okay, princess. We’ll… we’ll fix this.”

You were halfway through your breakfast when your phone went off. Ty Herndon’s ‘Living in a Moment’ quietly filtered through the speaker and you froze. “That’s Sam,” you whispered.

“You gotta answer it. We don’t know how long we’re gonna be-”

“Yeah,” you interrupted, answering and putting it on speaker on low volume. “Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?” Sam demanded. Dean’s jaw tensed and you flinched at the tone. “You  _know_ I don’t like waking up with you not here.”

“I’m j-just… I got hungry. I w-went to break-” Your whole body was shaking and he’d only spoken fifteen words to you. Dean tried to calm you by taking the hand not holding your phone, but it didn’t help.

“You’re with Dean, aren’t you?” he growled and tears immediately sprung up in your eyes as you whimpered. “We’ve talked about this, y/n. I can _not_  trust him alone with you. He’s been trying to take you from me since he met you and don’t think I’ve forgotten that you kissed him last year, y/n. You can’t be with him without supervision.”

Rage flashed across Dean’s face, but he took a deep breath and held his tongue. “I-I’m a grown woman, Sam. I d-don’t need super-”

“You think I’m just gonna let you-” He sighed, heavily. “Come home. We can talk about it in person.”

You shook your head. “No. I am going to finish my breakfast. I need-”

“You need to eat something healthy, not a fucking Lumberjack Special with extra fucking bacon. You need to think about the baby, now.”

“Eat a dick, Sam. She should eat whatever she can keep down,” Dean said, as his composure finally broke.

“Did you put me on speaker?” Sam growled. “You know I hate it when you put me on speaker.”

“You just hate every-fucking-thing lately, don’t you, little brother?” Dean snatched the phone from your hand and held up a hand in a calming gesture.

“I thought you were going to respect the boundaries of our relationship, Dean.” Sam’s voice seemed to go lower, somehow.

“And I thought you were just a prick when you’re on the drugs, but I guess we were both wrong.”

You could feel Sam seething through your phone. “You know what, Dean? Fuck you.” The line went dead as your screen lit up to signal that Sam had hung up.

Dean switched sides of the booth to wrap his arms around you, trying to calm your shaking. He kissed the top of your head as you started to cry into his shirt. “Shhh. It’s okay, princess. We’re gonna fix this. We’ll summon Anya again and get the fuck back to December.”

You had just managed to calm your panic attack when you heard Sam’s voice in the front of the diner. You and Dean scrambled out of the booth as Sam approached, Dean placing himself between you and his brother like a buffer.

“Thanks for calling me, Lou,” Sam said, handing the server a folded hundred-dollar bill.

Dean scoffed, angrily. “Dick move, Lou.”

“Hey, guy’s gotta eat,” Lou defended, slipping the cash in his apron and walking back into the kitchen.

“What, you paid off the servers to call you if they saw us together?” Dean asked.

“So?”

“You don’t think that’s a bit controlling and-”

“Dean, you promised you weren’t going to do this shit, anymore. When she forgave me for-”

“Forgave you? She let you come back because she felt like she didn’t have a choice! You-”

“Shut up, man. She fucking loves me and-”

“ _ENOUGH_!” you exploded. Both brothers turned to you with concern. “Just fucking stop it!”

“Y/n, baby, you need to calm down. Stress isn’t good for the baby.”

“So? What do  _you_ care? It’s not even yours,” you snapped.

Sam’s face went cold. “What?”

“Dean and I made love the night I found out about Eileen. He held me, made me feel whole and safe again, said he was gonna fix me.” You didn’t have the memories of that night, but you knew. You knew Dean so well that you could hear his whispers in your ear, feel the healing touches. “The only reason we didn’t start something was because he was afraid you were gonna kill yourself if we did and I was afraid you were going to kill  _me_.”

Sam’s eyebrows bunched together. “I wouldn’t-”

“Paw-paw always said that the only indication of future performance is past performance, Sam, and your past performance has been violent and-and selfish.” Sam opened his mouth to argue, but you were on a roll, not prepared to let him interrupt as you finally said everything you’d been holding back. “You raped me, Sam. You can blame the heroin all you want but you did it. You bit me. You bruised me, you broke me. I’m dying, I’m drowning, because of  _you_. You took my health, you took my happiness, you took my everything and then you took away my fucking independence and the one friend I had who was keeping me from falling apart completely. You were so important to me and you’re so important to Dean, but you don’t care about us.”

“That’s not true. I love Dean and-”

“Then you don’t love me. You just loved the effort I put into you. The time and energy, blood, sweat, and tears. I mean… if you loved me, you would have gotten me help, Sam. I have been so sick, so hurt and you… you just let me get worse and worse. You think I’m gonna be able to keep a baby like this? You think I’ll be able to maintain a pregnancy with the amount of stress and sickness I have to deal with every day? This is a PTSD cocktail just begging for a miscarriage and you act like you give a fuck about what’s good for me, for this baby, but you only care about what’s good for you!”

You took a deep breath, to calm your panting breaths. “I don’t think you ever loved me. I think you saw a woman you could mold, a woman who would do anything to please you and… with your job, with your  _life_ spent pleasing any woman who bought your time, with how much you hate yourself, you couldn’t let go of a woman who’d live for your happiness.” You blinked away your tears, a sense of relief falling over you as you said the words you hadn’t even let yourself think before. You took another deep breath. “I love Dean. Dean loves me. My devotion to you is over. My relationship with you is over. If you decide to go get high or hurt yourself, that’s not my fault… or his. If you decide to be a grown-up, if you decide to deal with the consequences of your actions, then maybe eventually you and I could be friends. Maybe you could have a relationship with your niece or nephew. But right now? With the controlling, possessive, crazy you got going right now? I’m better off without you.”

“Y/n, please,” Sam begged.

“I really wish you were the man I thought you were.” You grabbed Dean by the front of his shirt and pulled him out of the diner without paying for your meals. Sam could pay, or Lou could with the money Sam gave him to report on you. Either way, it wouldn’t matter once you summoned Anya again.

“That was crazy,” Dean said, as he sped out of the parking lot. “That wasn’t Sam.”

“Yes. It was.”

“No, I mean… That was like Junkie Sam. ‘Need a hit’, ‘Do anything for a fix’ Sam. My Sam hasn’t been like that in a long time and  _never_ over a woman. Over heroin, sure, but…” Dean reached over and took your hand, threading his fingers through yours. “I can understand him getting all obsessed with you, though. I know  _I_  did.”

“No. It’s different, Dean. Just… there’s a difference. I can feel it.”

There was a moment of silence. “What you said back there, about me making you feel safe and whole?”

You squeezed his hand and slid across the bench seat to lean your head on his shoulder. “When Sam broke me, when you came out to hold me, I could feel it in your embrace; that everything was going to be okay. In the very least, that it was okay if it wasn’t okay… like how you held me when Carol triggered a panic attack at Maw-maw’s, that it was okay to not be okay.” You licked your bottom lip between your teeth. “I always had to be okay with him. If I wasn’t okay, he wouldn’t be. It always felt different with you.”

He hummed, thoughtfully. “You said you didn’t know if I loved you in this timeline… I think you know I did. I think you’ve known.”

“You never said… I didn’t wanna assume.”

“Gotta say it?” he asked. You shrugged. “Hey, I’m not big on talkin’ out emotions and chick flick shit, but hey…” Dean stopped at a red light, slammed the Impala into ‘park’ and turned to you, forcing you to look up into his eyes, soft green orbs full of love. “I love you, y/n. You are the smartest, strongest, most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I love you. No assumptions, no doubts. I love you.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, softly, as you started to cry and the car behind you started to honk. Dean pulled back, threw up a middle finger to the other driver, put the car back in drive and pulled through the intersection. You wiped at your eyes, feeling like a happy mess. Dean dropped his hand to your thigh as he drove toward the new age shop with the creepy chick. “Don’t get used to hearing it, princess. I think I just filled my ‘I love you’ quota for the year, but… you needed to hear it.”

“I’m okay to just… feel it… and I  _do_ ,” you whispered.

“Good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t go into the shop with Dean, choosing to wait in the car. You were too tired, too nauseated, to get out of the car. Dean did most of the setup for the summoning spell, this time, making you sit in the living room while he covered the dining table in spell components. “You ready, princess?” he asked, beckoning you into the kitchen. He handed you the pack of matches and held up the paper with the Latin incantation on it. You read it together, dropping the match into the bowl of herbs.

“Oh, what, you’re already ready to beg me to take you back? I expected a woman as stubborn as you to hold our at least a few days.” Anya appeared behind you, arms crossed over her chest.

“I’m… I can’t…” you started.

“We’re sorry,’ Dean interjected, making you nod. “We know that what happened with Ruby wasn’t your fault. She stabbed y/n because y/n went in there half-cocked and Ruby was crazy as fuck.”

“I’m sorry for doubting… Please, Anya-  _Anyanka_. Thank you so much for saving me from this.” You gestured at the ceiling and the sky above it. “This world would’ve killed me. Being with Sam, being pregnant, being without Dean… it would’ve killed me. I wouldn’t have survived much longer here so… thank you. Please, please, take us back. We understand now. Please.”

Anyanka huffed and stepped toward you. “ _Only_ because I don’t want all of the effort I put into that other timeline to go to waste. Do not summon me again,” she demanded, before making a wide circular gesture and everything seemed to melt into nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were on the couch in your living room, head in Dean’s lap, halfway through watching ‘The Blind Banker’ episode of  _Sherlock_. An aching in your abdomen forced you to look down at yourself. Plump and healthy, save for the stabwounds in your stomach. You twisted on the couch to look up at Dean’s smiling face. “We’re back,” you whispered as he paused the show.

“Yeah.” He ran his thumb across your cheek. “Look at you, gorgeous. That’s a much healthier, happier face.”

You nodded. “Yeah. How’s my hair look?”

“Beautiful. Like every bit of you.”

You sat up and carefully climbed into his lap. “You love me.”

He smirked, letting his hands drop to caress your hips. “Uh-huh.” You leaned forward and buried your hands in his hair, pushing your tongue between his lips and licking into his mouth. When he pulled away a few minutes later to allow the two of you to breathe, he licked his lips and caught your eyes. “I really liked the idea of you… you know, havin’ my baby.” He said it like he was embarrassed by it, and his cheeks flushed a bit.

“Really? I-I would’ve thought you, you know, wouldn’t want anything to do with-”

“I’m almost forty, princess. You think I haven’t put a little thought into settling down, having the American dream? A little house with the picket fence, the 2.5 kids…”

“With your job? You think you can have the normal, boring-”

“Apple pie life? Maybe. Dad gets it done. I mean, I would… I’d probably take fewer clients, but I’m already taking fewer than I did before I met you.” He smiled, running his hand over your hair. “Princess, I could quit right now and live on my savings for two years. I don’t  _need_ the job. I like the job and I’m good at the job, but I could do without it if I had to to have a life with you.”

You shook your head. “I’d never make you quit your job, Dean. All the rest of this stuff… let’s talk about it when we’ve had time to think about everything, okay?” His eyebrows went up. “I just think we’re a little raw from what we went through and I want us to have time to evaluate before we make any decisions or declarations, okay?”

“Declarations like ‘I love you’?”

You smiled. “No, I like that one.” You pressed a kiss to his lips and moved to lie your head in his lap again. “Turn the show back on.” Dean nodded and picked the remote back up. 


	9. Dissociate

**Warnings** : mentions of assault, mentions of prostitution, mentions of past sexual assault, little bit of angst.   **18+ HERE BE SEX DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!** oral sex (fem rec), unprotected sex, little bit of breeding kink.

~~~~~~~

“So, wait. Where was  _I_  in all this?” Charlie asked, licking cupcake frosting off of her fingers.

“I assume you were  _here_. I just wasn’t allowed to be. Sam wanted me with  _him_.”

“Two things. One, I can’t believe your dumbass alternate self stayed with him! After everything he did to you, you really thought it was a good idea?”

“Alternate me didn’t stay, she went  _back_.”

“Same difference! I mean, was he still fucking the nurse? Did AU you even  _ask_?”

“I mean, I probably didn’t  _ask_ , but he sent a text before he went into the psych ward saying he’d broken it off with her.”

“Oh, and what kind of manipulative bullshit was that?!” Charlie exclaimed. “Who  _does_ that? Sociopaths do that. ‘Oh, let me just make everybody think I’m a suicide risk so they’ll forget that I’m a piece of shit’. Seriously? Why didn’t you and Dean just run off together?”

“Because that would’ve hurt Sam. Dean’s all about family. He doesn’t have a lot of it, ya know? His mom’s parents died years ago. His mom died when he was real young, his grandpa disappeared when his dad was little, he’s barely spent any time with his grandma… He has his brothers, his dad and stepmom. After what happened to Adam… he just couldn’t hurt Sam.” You shrugged, picking up one of the cupcakes Charlie brought home. “Dean’s the kind to sacrifice his own happiness for the happiness of the people he loves.”

“Okay, but it wasn’t just his happiness he sacrificed, it was yours… and your health and the baby’s health. As soon as he knew about the baby, he should’ve run off with you.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Char. It just didn’t turn out that way. So, what was the second thing?”

“What?”

“You said ‘two things’ before you started going off on me.”

“Oh, well… the  _baby_. How do you feel about that?”

You licked at the bright pink frosting and shrugged. “I dunno. I mean, I liked that it was Dean’s.  _Dean_ liked that it was Dean’s. We’re supposed to talk about it in a few days, when we’ve had time to process everything.”

“Okay, why the face?”

“It’s just… Dean said he loved me, and when we got back, he started talking about how he liked the thought of having a baby and picket fences and settling down and… I don’t want it to be some knee-jerk reaction to the… Darkest Timeline, ya know? Like he feels guilty about how he and Sam acted and this is the remedy?”

“Dude, really?” Charlie scoffed.

“He’s only known me for a month and a half. I’ve known  _him_ for almost a year, but-”

“Oh, shut up. That man summoned a demon for you. He traveled time for you. Like, I get it that last time a Winchester fell for you, it was a horrible thing, but this is  _Dean_ … the better one. The emotionally mature one who lets you be you, the one without the drug problem or the dark side. Ooh, begs the question: how are you guys gonna deal with Sam? Like, now that Dean’s seen it, instead of just hearing about it…”

“Oh, we’ll be dissociating.”

“What?”

“We’ll be dissociating this Sam from  _that_ Sam’s actions. This is Sam, that’s Bizarro Sam. Or, even better, this Sam is Harvey Dent and that Sam was Two-Face. I took away his acid attack, so he stays an upstanding member of society. No catalytic event, no supervillain.”

“Okay, but that potential is still in him. He could-”

“That potential’s in everyone. This Sam hasn’t done anything wrong. If we hold… Dark Sam’s actions against him, that’s not fair. We have to treat it like an ‘evil twin’ trope and move on.”

“I feel like that’s easy to say, not so easy to do.”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out tomorrow. The Winchesters are taking me to dinner to celebrate my release from the hospital and, you know, to thank me for saving Adam.”

“Want me to come with?”

You shook your head. “No, but… Dean’s gonna be by in about an hour. We’re gonna go to Denny’s for lunch.”

“Sounds good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean held the door open for you and Charlie. You started to head to the back room, but he led you toward one of the front booths. “We always sit in the back,” you protested. “In the camera blindspot.”

“Not anymore. Not during Lou’s shifts.”

“Really, D.? I thought we weren’t holding the other timeline against people.” You slid into the booth next to Charlie and Dean slid in across.

“We’re not holding it against  _Sam_ , but Lou,” Dean shook his head. “Lou’s a dick. I ain’t givin’ my hard-earned money to somebody who would sell me out for a c-note and neither should you, princess.”

“Still can’t believe Sam paid people to tell him where you were,” Charlie rolled her eyes.

“Not where I was. Where I was with Dean. It was all about keeping me from the people who might, you know, care that I was falling apart and try to take me away.” You licked your lips and shrugged. “No big deal. It’s not… it’s just… I really liked Lou.”

“Yeah, but he’s a dick. He didn’t even seem the least bit ashamed that he had served you up to your asshole boyfriend on a silver platter.”

“New subject!” you demanded. “How was work, Dean?”

“It was a half hour of Stella telling me how much she missed me over the last three weeks. She, uh, wouldn’t even let me get down to business until I explained where I’d been.”

“And what’d you tell her?”

“Told her I had a family member in the hospital.”

“Awww, you’re  _family_!” Charlie cooed.

“Someday,” Dean said under his breath. “Anyway, Stella sends her love or, what’d she say? ‘Thoughts and prayers’.”

You nodded. You knew about Stella from the other timeline. Stella was a twenty-nine year old single mother, a retired Army medic, and an amputee. The loss of her leg had caused the complete decimation of her self-worth and she’d told Dean many times that the only time she felt beautiful was in his arms. She was a good woman who’d been given a bad hand defending the country. She was the reason you couldn’t imagine asking Dean to stop working for Bobby.

“How’s her son?” you asked, opening the menu even though you already knew the entirety of what they offered.

“He’s good. He’s on his Christmas break so she sent him to his dad’s in Indiana.”

“So, you, like, know these chicks in more than just the Biblical sense?” Charlie asked, quietly and curiously.

“Oh, yeah. Some of ‘em see me weekly so I learn about ‘em. Keeps ‘em comin’ back.”

“And it’s not just women,” you said, with a small smile.

“It’s  _mostly_ chicks. Stan’s the only regular client I’ve got who’s a guy.”

“Not for long. He’s gonna come out when his dad passes in February and then he’s gonna get a boyfriend,” you said, trying to decide between a cheeseburger and a plate of chicken tenders and fries.

“Good for him,” Dean said with a nod. “You know about all of my regulars?”

You shrugged. “I know Stella, Stan, Ashley, Chrystal, Monique, Dasha and Julia.”

“Monique? I don’t have a Monique.”

“Oh. Well, you will. She’s an executive at one of the trading companies downtown. Just really unlucky in love and needing a bit of a stress relief. She’s a good tipper. You’re gonna love her.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s so weird that you can just talk to your boyfriend about him having sex with a bunch of other people like it’s no big deal,” Charlie said.

“It  _is_ no big,” you said, quietly.

Dean looked across the table. “It’s a job, that’s all. I provide a service.”

“Okay, but when Sam was with that-”

“That was different. That wasn’t a job,” you snapped. You shook your head. “Doesn’t matter. Nothing from over there matters, anymore. I’m getting a burger.”

“You okay?” your best friends said, simultaneously.

“Yep. Just my anxiety and knife wounds acting up. I’m golden.”

“Oh, reminds me. I told everyone that I told you all about Sam and Ruby, it’s why you went to her place and saved Adam.”

“Did Adam tell them I cloned his phone?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah. He hasn’t really talked about it. Just explained that you showed up to save him from Ruby’s plans to get him high. I think we’ll be all right. If they start asking questions, I’ll just tell ‘em I’m thinking about leaving  _Bobby’s Boys_  and that’ll spark an argument and they’ll forget that they had any questions.”

“Why would you quitting cause an argument?” Charlie asked.

“Because Bobby’s been there for us damn near our whole lives. Dad’s been working for him since I was six years old. Thirty-five years, we’ve known Bobby. I’ve worked for him for twenty-two years, Sam almost a decade. We’re his biggest earners and taking that cash outta his pocket would be like a punch in the face.”

“So, you’re never allowed to quit?” Charlie asked.

“Eh, it’s kinda complicated. Bobby would never stop me from stepping back, he asked me if I wanted to take a sabbatical when I was getting serious with my ex-girlfriend, but it’s a loyalty thing. Sam is gonna be quitting in about a year, Dad’s been whittling down his client list. I can’t leave the brunt of the work on Adam.”

“But there’s a whole bunch of guys that work for Bobby, right? Can’t one of them pick up the extra slack?”

“Why does it matter, Char?” you asked, tiredly. “Dean doesn’t need to quit. He’s got good clients. Just as long as my time is mine, I don’t have an issue with this.”

“Not gonna lie, it’d be real nice if Cas picked up more jobs, but when people look at the site they gravitate toward the Winchesters. Once Sam is off the site, I’m going to be getting a lot more traffic. Unless I have a reason not to.”

Lou walked by on his way to the kitchen and stopped, shocked. “Dean, y/n, what are you doing in Addie’s section?”

“Just a change of pace,” you covered.

“I can take you if you want.”

“Nah. We’re good,” Dean snapped.

Lou gave a little huff and shook his head. “Okay. Next time,” he said, walking away.

“Dick.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tapped your foot anxiously, waiting for Dean to pick you up for dinner. You just wanted everything to run smoothly. No questions that you were going to have issues answering, no problems disassociating Harvey Dent from Two-face, no panic attacks or pain.

“So, where are we going?” you asked as Dean helped you into the Impala.

“Dad and Kate wanted to treat you to somethin’ special so we’re going to Boka.”

“Boka? Really?  _Carol_ would think that place is expensive.”

“Don’t worry about the money. None of us are poor. Hey.” Dean slid into the driver’s seat and leaned down to press his lips to yours. “When you talk to your hematologist, you gotta ask when he thinks you’re gonna be cleared for fun.” He breathed the words into your mouth, his nose pressing into yours.

“Dean, I don’t care what the doctor says. If you don’t fuck me soon, I’m gonna start playing dirty.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of that, princess.” He pulled back and you smirked at him.

“You’re not supposed to, D.”

“And how, uh, how dirty do you plan to, uh, play?”

“Well, as dirty as possible, of course. I mean, dirty enough to get what I want.” You smiled and bit the inside of your lip. “Like… I could… tell you about the first time we had sex.”

“I-” He cleared his throat and kept his focus on the road. “I  _remember_ our first time together, y/n.”

“Do you, though? Do you remember manhandling me into your lap? Do you remember getting those perfect lips on my big, soft tits? Do you remember putting your hand up under my skirt and slipping your fingers-”

“All  _right_!” Dean sat up straighter and adjusted his pants. “Not fair.”

“That’s the point of playing dirty. It’s not  _supposed_ to be fair.”

He sighed and shook his head, slightly. “Okay. We’ll, uh, try to do  _something_ after dinner, but if it hurts you-”

“You’ll never know. I’ll keep it-”

“You will not. You try and hide some pain from me and I won’t touch you again ‘til your liver’s at a hundred percent.” He reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it. “I don’t want you lyin’ to me, princess, especially about something like your comfort. I know you want to get back to doin’ things like we were before, but-”

“Yeah, okay.” You pouted a little, but you knew his heart was in the right place. Sex was important, but your health was more important. When you got to the restaurant, you took a deep breath and let Dean help you out of the Impala. “I, honestly, feel a lot better. The pain isn’t nearly as bad as it was when I woke up.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” John Winchester’s deep voice pulled your attention to the entrance to the building. “It’s good to see you out of that hospital bed.”

You smiled and stepped closer. “It’s really not that big of a deal. I needed the nap.”

Behind John, Adam was rubbing his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Come here, kid,” John said, spreading his arms and pulling you into a hug. “You saved my boy. If you ever need anything, I mean it  _anything_ , I will provide,” he whispered. Adam caught your eyes over his father’s shoulder and you smiled at him.

“I’m sure Adam would’ve made the right choice, even if I weren’t there.”

Sam stepped forward and patted Adam’s shoulder. “Yeah, Adam’s not as smart as me and  _I_  fell in that trap, so…”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘I went to Stanford, I’m a lawyer, blah blah blah’. You’re also a dumbass and a bitch,” Adam said, losing a bit of the nervous look on his face.

“All right. Everybody get the hugs out of the way so we can get inside and order some high-priced food,” Dean demanded as John pulled back and Kate and Sam moved for a hug. Dean put his hand on your lower back, a simple bit of contact to ground you against Sam’s touch. No panic bloomed in you. You smiled as they pulled away and started inside.

“Can I?” Adam’s words faded as he looked at you.

Dean raised an eyebrow at you and you nodded. You went on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to Dean’s cheek. “We’ll be in in a minute. Get me an iced tea?”

“Yeah. Of course, princess.”

You leaned against the wall next to the entrance and looked over at Adam. “I’ve thought about that night over and over. I mean, from you taking my phone to you getting loaded into the ambulance and the cops asking me what happened. I don’t know why you did it. I mean, you didn’t even know me.”

You bit your lip and shook your head. “I knew enough. I knew about Sam and Ruby. I know about attractive people that make you feel completely unworthy, who you’d do anything to please. I didn’t have to know you to know that you didn’t deserve to end up… the way you’d end up once that needle went in your arm.”

“Well… thank you. You’re… you’re kinda the best girlfriend Dean’s ever had.” Adam pulled open the door and led you into the restaurant.

You chuckled. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t alive when he met Cassie, but I remember Lisa. She was a bitch. Like, he liked her a lot because she was bendy and she seemed sweet, but she didn’t want  _him_. She wanted him to change himself for her and her kid. Major bitch.”

“I can’t imagine wanting Dean to be someone else.”

“And that’s why you’re the best. You’re happy with him, as is. And his crazy messed up family.”

“As crazy and messed up as you may be, at least you’re supportive. My family-”

“Are terrible people.” Dean stood and pulled out the chair next to him, which you sat on. “Greedy, vain, they talk down to her all the time even though she’s the smartest one of ‘em. They think they’re better than her ‘cause they spend their money on plastic surgery.”

“Eh. It’s not a big deal. They’re family.”

“Her family sucks. Couldn’t even get them to be supportive when she was in her coma.”

“Dean… calm down,” Sam said, his eyebrow quirked.

“Well, we’re more than happy to be your substitute family,” Kate said with a smile.

“Shit, she’s practically a Winchester, already. Just need Dean to make that shit official,” John said with a laugh.

You looked down, cheeks warming. Dean reached over and put his hand on your thigh. “Don’t be tryin’ to marry me off, yet, Dad.”

“Yeah, it’s a little early, don’t you think?” Sam said, taking a drink of his water.

You hummed in agreement. “I mean, yeah, totally too early for that kinda-”

Dean leaned down next to your ear. “I’m gonna get you pregnant before I put a ring on your finger, anyway, princess,” he whispered into the curve of your ear. He pulled back with a grin on his face. “That way, you can’t say ‘no’,” he joked.

“Never could say ‘no’ to you, D.” Kate and John gave each other a knowing look and you bit your lip, feeling a bit exposed.

“So, how was work, y/n? Dean said you’re already back to your design firm?” Sam asked, seeming to sense your discomfort and bringing up something you could get excited about. Definitely not Two-face.

You smiled. “Yeah, I went back on Monday, which is a good thing because I almost lost my contract with the city to design the new DMV. You’d think they’d understand the whole ‘I was in a coma’ thing but they really only understand that time is money. So, I almost lost my contract to Thornton-Crist Concepts, but I was able to convince the mayor that I was more than ready to get the work done on time.”

Adam started to ask about your university experience, about architecture and owning your own business. “Is that something you’re interested in? I was kinda under the impression that, you know, the family business was-”

“Well, we’ve got a lawyer in the family… why not a doctor?”

“Yeah, that’d be a fun bit of student loans,” Sam said.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Dean said and you looked over at him in shock. You were sure that he wasn’t going to start this conversation unless he had to. “Look, I love Bobby as much as the rest of you but I don’t think it’s a bad thing to try to be, ya know,  _more_.”

John cleared his throat. “You planning to quit on us, too, son?”

Dean pursed his lips and shrugged. “Probably too late for me, Dad, but it ain’t too late for Adam and Sammy.”

“Dean,” you and Sam said at the same time.

“Adam is smart, okay? He deserves the opportunity to be whatever he wants to be. He has a chance, basically a second chance to get this right.”

“Dean, where is this coming from?” John asked.

Dean sighed and licked his lips. “Just thinking how bad things coulda gone for Adam and… I just…”

You leaned over and wrapped your arms around him. You knew exactly where this was coming from. “Calm down.”

Dean smirked and turned to you. “Feel like I should be saying that to you, right? When did you become the adjusted one?” he whispered.

“About the time I got you supporting me.” You pressed your lips to his cheek and turned to his family. “I went to University of Chicago. It’s not Northwestern but it’s not as expensive as Northwestern and it’s got great programs. You wouldn’t have to leave Chicago… you could still work for Bobby ‘til your workload gets too heavy.”

“That sounds great,” Adam exclaimed.

“Would you be willing to lead a campus tour?” Kate asked, smiling.

“Yeah, of course. I pay my alumni association dues so they love me there.”

Dean took your hand and squeezed it. “My little mediator.” You smiled and squeezed his hand in return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, princess. Let’s get inside.” Dean ran around the Impala and bent down to pick you up as you got out.

“No, no, no, Dean. I’m too heavy, I’m-” You clung to him as he tucked his arm under your knees and ass.

“And I am, apparently, stronger than you think, y/n.” He opened his front door and carried you into the apartment, kicking the door closed and heading straight for his bedroom. “How’s your stomach?” he asked, dropping you softly to his bed. He raised his eyebrow as you opened your mouth to respond. “ _Honestly_.”

“My stomach is fine. Little bit of pain, but nothing too bad.” You looked up at him and licked your lips as he started to peel his leather jacket off. “Are we…”

“You really think I can keep my hands off of you, anymore? Seriously, I have been waiting to get you back on my dick for a fucking month and I can’t wait, princess.” He pulled off his undershirt and blue flannel and tossed them to the floor. “Now, am I putting a condom on or not?”

You swallowed and looked away. “We were supposed to talk about it first.”

“What do you think we’re doing, y/n?”

“Springing this question on me isn’t cool.”

He rolled his eyes. “You have had  _days_ to think about this. Since we got back from Dark World. I made my intentions clear and I haven’t changed my mind. Have you made up yours?”

“Dean, you barely-”

“Do not start that bull. Our love is some transcendent, rise-above, Nicholas Sparks shit,” he growled, bending over to untie his boots. “You time-traveled to be with me, y/n. I’ve never felt so strongly for a woman. I want to make a life with you.”

Your heart raced at the declaration. “Dean.”

“You’re family, y/n. In both worlds, you’re family. In both worlds, we’re in love. What more do you want? What more do you need?” He stood straight, hooking his thumbs in his pockets and looking down at you.

“What do you mean, make a life?” you whispered.

He smiled and leaned down, pressing his full lips to yours. He gently pushed you backward to lie on the bed and covered your body with his. “I mean…” He kissed his way across your jaw to your ear, taking the lobe in between his teeth and laving his tongue across it. His left hand traveled down the front of you, unbuttoning each button of your blouse as he went. “A place that’s ours, designed by you. With a big garage for my Baby and a big yard.”

He licked down your neck and pulled your shirt open, kissing down to the valley between your breasts. “A ring on your finger, my last name on your license.” He kissed past your scarring wounds to your lower belly. “And life… growing right here.” He pressed his lips to your skin again, reverently and lovingly.

You gasped, looking down at him. Emotion was welling up in you, overtaking every doubt you had. “I… yes,” you whispered and the toothy smile he gave you made you whimper.

“To all of it?” His canine teeth seemed to sparkle as he pulled your skirt down your legs.

“Yes, Dean. Yes, to all of it.”

He tucked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled them to the floor. You sat up, pulling your blouse off and reaching behind you to undo your bra. He stood and looked down at you. “I’m gonna do this nice and easy, princess. We don’t wanna hurt you. Scoot.” He pointed at the pillow and you scooted back to lay your head on the pillow. Dean pulled open the button of his jeans but didn’t take them off, leaving them hanging open as he climbed on the bed between your legs and pulled your legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thigh, up to the juncture where your hip and leg meet.

You whined when his tongue came in contact with your clit, your hands burying in his hair as he took his time with you, licking lazy stripes against your womanhood until you were begging for release. He pulled back, licking his lips, and bounced happily off the bed as you whimpered at the loss of his tongue on you. “Don’t worry, princess, I’m going to fill you up in a minute,” he promised, dropping his jeans to the floor and climbing back over you. He held himself up on his left forearm and looked down into your face, green eyes boring into yours. He brushed your hair out of your face and pressed his lips to yours, softly and lovingly. It was the most beautiful kiss you’d ever shared and Dean didn’t end it as his hand left your face and moved to line his cock up with your entrance.

He kept his lips on yours, your tongues moving against each other as he pressed into you, but he stopped kissing you when he started to move, long languid strokes of his cock into your wetness. Your eyes were stuck on his, your lips hovering right by each other’s, breathing each other’s air. “You feel so fucking amazing,” he whispered into your mouth.

You whined his name, wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and brought your legs up to hitch at his hips, raising yours to meet his on every thrust. He dropped his head to your shoulder and moaned. “Can’t wait to fuck you full, princess.”

“Love you, Dean.”

He moved his hand between your bodies and swept his fingers across your clit, making your body tense. You whimpered at the pain but focused on the pleasure, pushing past it as your walls clamped down on his cock. A bit more pressure on your clit, a few more strokes of his cock and you were thrown into your first orgasm since before the coma. Dean followed you closely, twitching inside of you as he came. He leaned up on his forearms, breathing heavily as he looked down into your eyes again. You leaned up and pressed your lips to his as he pulled his half-soft length from you. He dropped to the mattress next to you and pulled you to lie your head on his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Dean?” you asked as your heart rate slowed.

“Yeah, baby?” He ran his hand down your arm, soothingly.

“Did you ask me to marry you?”

“Yeah. You said ‘yes’, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Guess I did.”

“Guess I gotta buy a ring, then.”

“Yeah.”


	10. Designs

**Warnings** : mentions of assault, mentions of prostitution, mentions of past sexual assault, little bit of angst,   **18+ HERE BE SEX DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!** oral sex (male rec), a buncha fluff

* * *

“City planner wants to see the prints for the DMV,” Deedee popped her head into your office, but didn’t enter. She’d been on edge around you since the party that didn’t happen, despite your profuse apology the Monday after you got back from the other timeline. She seemed to think you were going to explode at her with the slightest provocation. You couldn’t really blame her but it was irritating.

“It’s on the draft desk.” You pointed toward the main office, the large drafting desk with the stack of papers.

Deedee lingered in the doorway, eyes on what you were working on. “What’s that?”

“Just a house I’m designing.”

“Do we have a new client? I didn’t-”

You shook your head. “Nah. This is just for me, for fun. I’m ahead of schedule on the DMV so I thought I’d do a little fantasy planning.”

She stepped into your office fully and looked down at the papers. “Is that a nursery?” You nodded. “It’s kinda big, isn’t it?”

“Not always gonna be a nursery. It would be a kid’s bedroom and, eventually, a teenager’s room,” you responded nonchalantly.

“Y/n, can I…”

“Say what you wanna say, Deedee.”

She took a deep breath and kneeled down next to your chair. “I’m worried about you. Ever since you’ve been dating that Dean guy, you’ve been different. Bad different.”

“Correlation is not causation,” you said, focusing back on your drawing, starting to work out the perfect dimensions for a bathroom.

“What?”

“Just because two things happened at the same time, that doesn’t mean that one caused the other.”

“What? What are you saying?”

You sighed. “I’m saying that Dean’s not the reason I’m different.” You looked over at the woman. “I’m saying that something fucked up happened to me and Dean’s actually been  _helping_ me deal with it.”

“His family is the reason you got-”

“I’m not talking about being stabbed, Deedee. That was actually on the  _lower_ end of my fucked-up spectrum.” You shook your head. “I am better than you think I am. With what I’ve got in my head, I could be a drooling mess. Dean is not the problem.”

“Wh-what happened? What don’t I know?”

You turned back to your drawing. “All you need to know, as my assistant and as my friend, is that I’ve gotten help and some of that help is Dean Winchester.”

“Y/n, talk to me.”

You took a deep breath, taking care with your tone and your words. “Lemme give you a piece of advice. Being worried about someone doesn’t give you the right to pry into things they  _obviously_ don’t want to talk about. If I wanted you to know my damage, I’d’ve told you.” Deedee stood, suddenly, and you flinched. “I appreciate your concern. Thanks.”

You kept your eyes on your paper as she left your office. It would have been endearing if you were ready to talk to her about it, but you weren’t and you probably never would be. The people who needed to know, well, they already knew.

“I think my assistants are planning an intervention.” You took a drink of your tea and scratched the side of your neck.

“An intervention for what?” Charlie asked, shoving a handful of Cheez-its in her mouth.

“They think Dean is the reason I’ve got PTSD.”

“Nah a dishorder,” Charlie disagreed with her mouth full.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not going to stop until I start calling it a ‘syndrome’, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Fine. They think Dean’s the reason I’ve been acting-”

“Different. Not wrong or weird or any of that. Just different.”

“Okay. Sure. Whatever. They think Dean’s the reason I’m  _different_.”

“I mean… they’re not completely wrong. I mean, they aren’t  _right_ , but-” She shrugged. “How are you gonna tell them you’re engaged?”

“Oh, well, currently? I’m not. I mean, he kinda said it in the heat of a moment, so…” Charlie raised an eyebrow. “He hasn’t even bought me a ring and he asked me to marry him while trying to convince me to let him fuck me without a condom. I mean, come on!”

“Shut up, bitch. Ring or not, you’re engaged and in love. Don’t be so insecure.”

“I cherish our talks, Charlie, I really do,” you said, standing. “I gotta go get ready. Dean’s cooking for me tonight.”

“Okay, have fun. I’m gonna go sweet-talk that smoking hot chick from the bakery.”

“Oh, no wonder you’ve been bringing home so many cupcakes!. I thought you were just trying to keep me fat,” you joked.

“Kara’s cupcakes are amazing. Good enough to get  _me_ fat.”

“Definitely  _will_ if you don’t actually talk to her instead of buying her baked goods every day.”

“Yeah, yeah. Not all of us can come into a relationship knowing every button to push, okay? Some of us have to get a feel for things and figure it out.”

“Hey, I had to work through six months of friendship to get the information I needed to push those buttons.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, what do you think about Vegas?” Dean asked as you cleaned dishes for the lasagna he was working on behind you.

“Never been one for gambling, but I’m not against going to show or two.”

“No, I mean for the wedding. Why don’t we just elope? Grab Cas and Charlie as witnesses and go for a weekend, get Elvis to make you my wife.”

“You know that’s not how it really works. You can’t just show up and have Elvis marry you. You still have to go to the Clerk of Courts, file the paperwork, wait the 24 hours, then you can get Elvis to sign the paperwork and have a notary make it official. Hollywood makes it seem-”

“But would you be okay with eloping?” he pressed.

You shrugged. “I’m not opposed to it. I’m actually kinda cringing on the thought of trying to get both of our families to be nice to each other for an entire day, and there’s all this stress associated with a wedding that is completely ridiculous and my people kinda don’t like you because they think you’re the reason for my PTSS and-” You chuckled at yourself. “Yeah, Dean, I wanna elope.”

“Awesome.” Dean left it at that as he popped the lasagna into the oven and came to wrap his arms around you. “So, we’ve got about a half hour to kill while that cooks. What do you think we should do with that time?”

You rinsed your hands off and turned in his arms. “I can think of a few things.”

“What kinda things?” You bit your lip as you slid to your knees in front of him, pulling at his belt. “Oh. That’s a good kinda thing.”

You pulled his jeans open and hooked your fingers in the waistband. He was soft when you you wrapped your hand around him and started to lick at his head, but he definitely didn’t stay that way for long. You moved slowly, loving the way he hissed and moaned at your actions and the way he pulsed against your tongue and palm.

He leaned over you to brace himself on the edge of the sink behind you as you started to enthusiastically bob your head, running your fist along the bit at the base that you couldn’t fit. “Fuck, y/n. I… I’m gonna cum.”

You hummed and kept going, bringing a hand up to caress his balls. A strangled sound came out of him as his cock twitched and started to pump cum into your mouth. You swallowed it all down and licked your lips as you stood, pulling his pants and boxers up with you as you went. “That wasn’t very sanitary. I’m gonna wash my hands.”

Dean laughed. “Sanitary? You think I care about that?”

“ _I_  care about that,” you said, turning the faucet back on and pouring soap on your hands.

Dean kissed your neck and wrapped you in his arms. “Clean two more plates.”

“Why?”

The door to Dean’s apartment opened at the perfect time to answer you. “That trunk is  _huge_!” Charlie’s voice hit your ears. “You could fit, like, three bodies in there!”

“Should I be concerned that your standard of measurement is corpses?” Castiel’s gravel voice responded.

“Hey, I didn’t say they were  _dead_ bodies, just bodies.”

You turned to Dean, who was smirking. “Why are Cas and Charlie here? You didn’t tell me you invited them.”

“Bags are loaded, Dean.” Cas threw the Impala’s trunk key across the kitchen as he and Charlie entered the room. Dean caught the key and tucked it into his pocket.

“Bags?” you asked as Dean grabbed his oven mitts and pulled the lasagna out of the oven.

“Well, after we eat, we’re gonna run off the Vegas.”

“What?!” You shook your head. “D., I told you. It’s not as easy as-”

“Emailed the paperwork to Clark County Clerk of Courts two days ago, made an appointment at the Graceland Wedding Chapel for Friday afternoon, got us a nice motel room and booked us a flight that leaves in four hours.” Your eyes widened at ‘flight’. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m getting on an airplane for you, woman.”

“You knew about this?” you asked, looking to Charlie.

“How do you think he knew to put the paperwork in with the Clerk? Oh, and I packed your carry on bag so I hope you don’t mind getting married in that pretty white sundress you bought two summers ago.”

You turned back to Dean. “We’re really doing this?”

He nodded, his eyes shining. “Yeah, we are. So, you should start thinkin’ ‘bout vows, ‘cause I’m way ahead of you on mine.”

“You gonna put that food on the table or what?” Charlie asked, taking a seat at the little oak table.

“Why don’t you sit down, y/n? Dean and I will make plates,” Cas volunteered.

You smiled and sat next to Charlie. “This is… crazy. It’s crazy to elope like this, isn’t it?”

“Any crazier than any of the other shit that’s happened since you went through time?” she whispered. “It’s 2019. Let this 2019 be better than the last time you did it, huh?”

You took a deep breath and smiled as Dean cut through the layers of pasta with a metal spatula. “This is so crazy.”

“Get used to it,” she responded with a little half smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You held Dean’s hand through most of the flight and put your headphones in his ear to let him hear the ‘Dean Music’ playlist on your Spotify. The amount of fear in the man was almost cute, it made you smile that you were able to get him to relax. You grabbed a taxi van at the airport and headed for your hotel. “So, drop our stuff at the hotel, grab somethin’ to eat ‘cause I’m  _starving_ and then I’m thinkin’ strip club.”

“Oh, really, Dean?”

“Well,  _yeah_! We might’a eloped, but I still get a stag party, don’t I?”

“Okay, but  _I_  don’t wanna have naked chicks shaking their silicone in my face.”

Dean shrugged. “Then hit a Chippendale’s show.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do I need to remind you that my Maid of Honor wants nothing to do with a Chippendale’s show?”

“‘Kay, we’ll trade. I’ll take Charlie to see some tits and you and Cas can go see the dicks. Shiny?”

You couldn’t help the smile on your lips. “Shiny,” you confirmed.

Hanging with Cas was different. He was very reserved, but there was a sparkle in his eyes when one of the dancers slipped him his number.

“He was very cute. I’ll have to call Meg, see if I’m allowed to have some fun.”

“So, you and Meg have, like, an open relationship?”

“Yes. Exclusivity has never been a priority for us. Two escorts, we understand that sex without an emotional component is just sex. However, we are loyal to one another, have set boundaries that we both strive to respect.”

You smiled at him. “Hey, Cas. Thanks for being here. I-I know that we don’t know each other very well and I know some folks think Dean and I are moving too fast and I know that Sam is probably gonna be pissed that Dean got married without him but-”

“Dean made me promise to bow out gracefully from the position so that Sam may have it for the renewal ceremony.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s you  _now_ , Cas.”

“Y/n, you’re right that I don’t know you well, but I do know Dean, probably better than I know any other person in the world. In the entirety of the decade I’ve known him, Dean’s always portrayed himself as this happy-go-lucky person, dancing through life, as it were. It didn’t take long for me to see that it’s a mask; an ill-fitting mask used to disguise an emptiness inside him. When he started talking about you, his perfect woman, I thought he might be being catfished. You were too perfect for him. But you’re real and a truly good person based on everything the Winchesters have told me about you. You will make a fine addition to that family.”

“Thank you, Castiel.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I have to go call my girlfriend, see if I’m allowed to make that cute blond boy scream a name he’s never heard of before.” You giggled as he stood and walked out, hand in his coat pocket to retrieve his cell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean walked into the hotel room at 1:30, smelling of booze, with glitter all over his face. You smiled at him from the bed. “Well, you look like you had fun.”

“Oh, yeah. They heard I was gettin’ married tomorrow and gave me a free dance.”

“Did Charlie have fun?”

“Oh, yeah. She got one of the dancers to take her home with ‘em,” Dean said, walking into the bathroom. “How ‘bout you an’ Cas? Was it more Swayze or Farley?”

“Definitely Swayze, and Cas loved it. He got one of the dancers to take  _him_ home, too.”

“Meg must’ve been feeling generous,” Dean called over the sound of the sink running. “She doesn’t usually let him play unless she can watch.”

“They have an interesting relationship, don’t they?”

“Yeah.” Dean walked out of the bathroom, rubbing at his face with a washcloth. “But it’s what they need from each other, so I don’t judge.”

“You know you’re just spreading that glitter around. You gotta take a shower.”

“In the morning. I’m exhausted.” He dropped the washcloth on the side table and slipped under the covers. He wrapped his arm around you and held you close. “Tonight’s the last night you’re going to sleep as a y/l/n.”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“You havin’ second thoughts, yet?”

You shook your head. “You?”

“Nah. It’s just a piece of paper. Nothing’s changing. ‘Cept I’ll get to call you my wife.”

“Where are we gonna stay until your wife builds that house she’s designing?”

“You can move into my place. I know it’s smaller than yours, but yours has a Charlie in it.”

“That, it does. Guess it makes sense.” You took a deep breath. “I can’t wait to get that house done.”

“Eager to get started filling it with the pitter-patter of little feet?”

“Oh, hush.” You turned over in his arms. “We’re getting married tomorrow, Dean… and I can’t wait to have a place that’s  _ours_. A place where I don’t have any memories from the other timeline, where nothing bad has ever happened. A place that I have designed just for me and you and…  _someday_ , our children. Somewhere to fill with our happiness, you know?”

Dean smiled and pressed his lips to yours. “You know you’re sappy as fuck, right?”

“I know you love it when I’m sappy as fuck, so shut up.”

Dean ran his fingers through your hair. “Get some sleep, princess. Big day tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You dressed in the strapless white sundress Charlie packed for you and she helped you with your hair and makeup. Dean got ready in Cas’ room and you took separate taxis to the chapel. Dean was standing at the altar with an Elvis impersonator, dressed in a black suit. Cas sat in the front row with a pie box on his lap, Charlie next to him holding a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue. A two-man band kicked up as you started your trek toward the front of the chapel; a guitar and keyboard version of ‘ _Snapback_ ’. You smiled up at him as you came to stand next to him and Elvis. “Snapback?”

Dean gave a half smile. “It’s our song. You know it is.”

“Just expected something… Zeppelin or something.”

“Nah. Maybe at the renewal, but not today.”

“We are gathered here today, to witness the momentous occasion, the joining of Dean Winchester and y/n y/l/n. Go ahead and turn to each other, take each other’s hands and stare into those gorgeous eyes. All right, mama. You ready to say these vows?” ‘Elvis’ asked.

“We got our own vows.” Dean smiled and took your hands in his, looking down into your eyes. “You know, I never thought I’d be here; standin’ in front of an altar, and Elvis, with a beautiful woman, one intelligent enough to know she  _shouldn’t_ hitch her wagon to my crazy show. But here we are. And it took a thousand fucked-up roads for us to get here, but I can’t be mad ‘bout the bad because…” He licked his lips and gave a little  happy humming noise.

“Without it, we wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be happy. Because of the bad, I get to stand here, in front of God and Elvis, and promise to spend the rest of my life making  _your_ life better. And I know one day, we’ll have to do this right, with a poofy dress and a big cake and our families bickering with each other the whole time, but this? Just standing here, looking in your eyes, with our best friends waiting there with whiskey and cherry pie? This is the memory I’m gonna cherish because this is us.”

You smiled and blinked away a few tears. “Dean, I know I don’t have to remind you of the hell you saved me from just by existing. Just by being a person that I could wish to be closer to, you have saved me. All the bad doesn’t matter. I can handle anything if I have you.” You chuckled. “Someone once said that our love is some transcendent, rise-above, Nicholas Sparks shit and that man was a genius.” Dean smirked and his eyes sparkled. “That man sees every bit of my damage and still, somehow, thinks I’m too good for him. That’s a man I will gladly make a life with, make a home with. That’s a man I thank God for. And when we get home and we tell our families that we ran off to Vegas to get married, I know you’ll protect me from the blood that’s gonna boil over this. Dean, I’ve loved you since before you met me. I think that says more than anything else I could say.”

“Beautiful! Now, do you, Dean Winchester, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Elvis asked.

Dean nodded and pulled his hand from yours to pull a small silver ring out of his suit jacket. It had three tiny diamonds embedded in the metal. “I do. This, uh, this ring was my mom’s. Most important woman in my life ‘til I met you. Had it sized up to a nine. I hope it fits.” He slipped the ring on your left ring finger and smiled when it fit. “Awesome.”

Cas stood, suddenly, and handed a plain silver band to you. “Thanks, Cas.” He nodded and sat back down.

“Do you, y/n y/l/n, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” You slid the ring on Dean’s finger and smiled up at him.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada, I pronounce you man and wife. Kiss the woman!”

You didn’t wait for Dean to kiss you, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him down to kiss him. Everyone in the chapel cheered. Dean pulled back from kiss and smiled down at you as a notary approached Cas and Charlie. “Hey, Mrs. Winchester,” he whispered.

“Hey.”

“Pie! It’s time for pie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean, you eloped to Vegas?!” Your mother’s voice was screeching, hysterical.

“Which word are you having trouble with?”

“Don’t get an attitude with me. You just ran off to Vegas to get married to a man you barely know!”

“And that attitude  _you’ve_ got is why we ran off to Vegas.”

“Oh, don’t act like I’m being unreasonable, y/n! You’ve got-”

“You are being unreasonable, Mom! This is my life and I’m in love. You don’t get to-”

“He married you for your inheritance, y/n! You need to get an annulment,  _now_.”

Rage filled you at the thought that your family thought Dean was some gold digger. “He signed a prenup, you unspeakable bitch, and it was his idea!” you lied. “But if you don’t want to come to the renewal ceremony, I understand!”

“You never used to talk to me like that before you got in with Dean.”

“That’s because I let you guys walk all over me until Dean helped me see that’s what you were doing. I’m not doing this anymore. Deal with it or don’t, but you have a new son-in-law.”

“Y/n, come on, don’t be like-”

The hotel room door opened and Dean walked in. “Dude, I’m sorry, okay, but we just wanted to get it over with, all right?” Your eyes jumped to his and he rolled them. “Sam, I know, man! I said ‘sorry’.”

“Look, I gotta go, Mom. We can talk about this more when I get home. Bye.” You hung up and stood, placing your hand on Dean’s chest as he listened to Sam ranting on the other end of his phone.

“We’re  _going_ to have a real ceremony, we just didn’t want to wait all that time to get-” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “In a few months, and yeah, of course you’re gonna be my Best Man.”

You pulled the phone away from Dean’s ear and put it to yours. “Sam, please stop being upset with Dean. This was just a preliminary paperwork thing. We’ll do it the right way, with the band and the poofy dress and caterers and shit and the whole family will be in on the planning. We just didn’t want to wait that long, okay?”

You could hear Sam sigh. “Yeah, I understand. You guys have that ‘life’s too short’ thing going on. I guess I get it.”

You smiled up at Dean. “Thank you for understanding, Sam.” Dean’s eyes went wide. “We’ll be home tomorrow morning and we’ll all talk about it then.”

“Okay. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, Sam. See you then.”

You released the phone and smiled at Dean as he put the phone back to his ear. “Yeah, okay, Sammy. See ya then.” He clicked off his phone and looked down at you. “How’d you do that?”

You shrugged. “Guess I still know the right tones and wording to get him to calm down… and that’s a cool tool to have against my brother-in-law.”

Dean pushed his phone into his pocket and leaned down. “You’re the best.”

You smiled and pressed your lips to his. “I try real hard.”

“Let’s go home, Mrs. Winchester.”


	11. Happy Ever

_ “-don’t know who you people think you-” _

_ “You are terrible people who-” _

_ “Where do you get off telling us who we are when-” _

_ “-taking my daughter to Vegas when she barely-” _

_ “Like you give a fuck about y/n! You’re just worried about your inheritance getting smaller when she-” _

Dean held your hand as Carol and your mother screamed at John and Kate. Every time you moved to stand from the couch and get in the middle of the confrontation, he shook his head and squeezed your hand. They had to get past it. They were family now and they had to get through it so everything could settle.

You were trying to tune it out, using breathing techniques that your doctor taught you to calm your panic, but eventually you pulled your hand from Dean's and stood. “ _ ENOUGH _ ! Jesus Christ, people! It doesn't matter! Do you even realize how petty you're all being? Dean and I are in love and we're married and that is the important thing, here. We invited you to meet so that you could get to know each other, not so that you could tear at each other's throats like rabid animals.”

“They are the ones who-” Carol started, but you turned a glare on her.

“I didn't even invite  _ you, _ Carol! Why are you here?”

“Because Dad asked me to come in his place.”

“Liar. You volunteered because you're a nosy bitch.” You sighed. “Look. This is all very simple. I am a Winchester now. I love Dean with my entire being. I am happy to call John and Kate ‘Mom and Dad’.” The Winchesters all smiled at that. “If you want the Winchesters to be the only family I acknowledge, then you are going the right direction to get your asses tossed from my life. Calm the fuck down, all of you.”

Your mom sighed and looked down at her feet. Dean stood and put his hand on your shoulder. “Look, I know that you guys are worried and you think I’m just after the money, but if that were true I’d’ve taken Maw-maw to Vegas.” He said it with a straight face, but he couldn’t help but crack a smirk soon after. “I love y/n. I signed a prenup, this really isn’t a big deal.”

“Guys, we want this transition to be as smooth as we can make it, okay? And we want you all to participate in the big wedding, but… if you can’t be civil with each other, then we just… we just won’t have one.”

Everyone turned to you in shock. Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean, won’t have one? Isn’t the big wedding every girl’s dream?”

You bristled, slightly. “I am not a little girl anymore and I don’t think my happiness depends upon the venue and the dress and the big-ass cake! If the only wedding I ever have is the one in Vegas, then I am fine with that.” 

“We don’t like how you act around him.”

“And I don’t like  _ you _ , Carol.”

“No, seriously. What happened to you? What changed that you became like this?” Carol snapped.

“She doesn’t need to answer that,” Dean said, softly.

“You really wanna know?”

“Of course I wanna know! You’ve been acting strange since you met this-”

“Dean didn’t do it! I was raped! By a fucking junkie who couldn’t control himself! I’ve been dealing with the aftermath for fucking months! You can’t…” You shook your head as Dean moved to hold you. “I didn’t want you to know. That’s why I didn’t fuckin’ say anything.”

Your mother and sister both looked between themselves, shock washing the anger out of them and replacing it with pity. John’s eyes sparked with rage and Kate’s filled with something confusing… admiration? You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. “You know how I’ve been dealing with this? With Dean’s help and support, with weekly support group meetings in the back room at the Y, and a pharmacy’s-worth of antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” your mother whispered.

“For a lot of reasons. Same ones that kept me from telling the police. Why invite…” You cleared your throat and tried to speak the next words without acknowledging the tears rolling down your face. “Why invite you to pry into my life? Why invite the ‘why were you in this situation’? The ‘you knew he was dangerous, why did you go see him?’. Why would I invite this family to question whether I was even telling the truth?”

“We wouldn’t-” Carol started to argue, but you shook your head.

“Carol, you love putting me down. You make me feel horrible every time we’re in a room together. You’re really telling me that you wouldn’t ever pass around the thought that I was making it up for attention?” You wiped at your eyes. “You wouldn’t say, ‘Who’d rape a fatass like her’? Of course, you would. Or Ted would.”

Carol’s eyes went wide with the realization that you were telling the truth, that the scenario you were putting forth was a likely one. She turned helplessly to your mom, who looked to be in genuine empathetic pain for you. “I'm so sorry,” your mother whispered as tears started to flow down her cheeks. 

“I just… I want to move forward. I've been trying so hard to move past it. It was this one thing. This one event that is still shaping me all these months later and I want to move forward.”

“I know you won't believe this, but I'm really not trying to be a bitch here,” Carol started. Her tone was apprehensive as she continued. “But you had this horrible thing happen to you and you’re trying to get past it.. I mean, don’t you think it’s kinda reckless to just throw in with this guy you barely-”

“I know him, Carol. I know him and reckless comes with the PTSD and-”

“Not a disorder,” Dean corrected, tightening his embrace.

“You’re not allowed to talk to Charlie anymore,” you snapped. You sighed and took a deep breath. “Look, Carol, I know how this must seem, but try to see it from my side. Within the space of a year, I was raped  _ and _ I was stabbed. Life sucks, guys. It’s a series of unfortunate events, but Dean…” You twisted in his arms just enough to see his face.

“Dean makes me happy. I feel safe and loved and appreciated. He makes life suck less and I want him in my life forever. That’s why we ran off to Vegas.” You turned your eyes back to your family. “Please, try to make this easy.”

Your mom pulled out of her stupor first, stepping toward you and Dean. “I’m sorry. What a horrible impression we’ve made. Of course, y/n’s happiness is more important than anything and if you’re my daughter’s happiness, then… well, that’s… that’s fine by me, son.”

You smiled as she offered her hand and Dean pulled out of the embrace to take her hand in his. “Well, that's real good place to start.” 

“I suppose you two are better together than Uncle Stan and his gold diggers,” Carol said, softly. “And you know I liked Tawny.”

“I know you did. Y’all are still all over each others Facebook pages.” You licked your lips. “Are we… we good?”

Carol shrugged. “I’m sure it won’t last, but I’m full of sisterly affection. We better get this wedding planned before I turn back into a bitch at midnight.”

You started to chuckle at Carol’s self-awareness but it was cut off by Kate jumping forward to wrap you in a tight hug. “You are so strong!”

“Uh, Ma, she’s kinda…” Dean started but John put his hand on her shoulder and eased her back from you.

“Sudden movements and contact are not usually welcome for people with PTSD, Katie,” John coached.

“Oh! I’m sorry! I just… you’ve been struggling with this since before we met and you’re still such a selfless, amazing woman!”

“Thank you, John,” you smiled gratefully and cleared your throat. “So… wedding planning.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Absolutely not,” you denied.

“She’s insisting. You know how Maw-maw gets, y/n. If you don’t let her-”

“We’re having the damn wedding at her house, because she  _ insisted _ , I’m not about to let her pay for it, too! I have my own money! I mean, Dean and I have  _ our _ own money. We don’t need Maw-maw to-”

“You go ahead and call her and tell her that. I’m not telling that woman you don’t want the help,” Carol said through your phone. You rolled your eyes. Why couldn’t this just be easy?

“Yeah, okay. Appointment at the dress shop tomorrow at 12:30.”

“See you there,” she said, before disconnecting the call.

You dialed Maw-maw’s number next. “Hey, Maw-maw.”

“You’re gonna tell me you wanna pay for your own damn wedding, right?”

“I mean… yeah. It’s not like we’re going huge with it, Maw-maw. It’s gonna be thirty people, at most. I just don’t feel right taking your money for this thing we don’t even  _ need _ to be doing.”

“Life isn’t about needs, it’s about wants. Nobody goes to bed dreaming of the things they needed. And you not wanting my money is exactly why I want you to have it!”

“I get that, but…”

“Fine, girlie. Whatever you think is best. But remember: Maw-maw always gets what she wants in the end.”

“Why does that sound so damn ominous?”

“‘Cause I meant it to. Send me pictures of the dress when ya pick it, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right. I gotta go.  _ Idol _ is on.”

“Bye, Maw-maw.”

“Bye.”

You sighed and looked across the living room at your husband, seemingly furiously button-mashing the Nintendo Switch controller. “She back down?” he asked, his eyes not leaving the TV.

“Yes and no. She’s letting us pay for our own shit, but I’m sure she’s now planning some lavish hella-expensive wedding gift that we won’t be able to turn down without offending her.”

“Awesome,” he said sarcastically and rolled his eyes just enough to keep them from going off the screen. “So… that dress… how big you planning to go?”

“I think I’m gonna go with something corset-y. That way it’ll be adjustable.”

“Okay. So, how you feeling?” He paused his game and stood, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to flop on the couch.

You shrugged. “Meds are still in my system for a few more days. So, you got a couple days of a normal wife before I turn into a puddle.”

“You’re not gonna be a puddle,” he said soothingly, his hands running down your arms.

“You remember how I was in the other timeline, right?” you reminded. “I’m gonna be shaky and my hair’s gonna fall out and-”

“Nuh-uh. You’re gonna double-up on your appointments with Doc Parsons, take a bunch of vitamins to save your hair, and you’re gonna have a bunch of support that you didn’t get last time. You’re gonna be just fine, princess.”

“I’m less worried about me.”

“Don’t worry about them. We’re doing what we can and that’s all we can do. Don’t stress.” He pressed his lips to your temple and smiled at you. “Wanna play Smash? I’ll let you be Peach.”

“You take the princess. I’ll kick your ass with Bayonetta.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You look nauseous,” Sherry said, offering you a bottle of water as Carol tugged at your hair.

“‘Nauseated’,” you corrected. “Means I’m feeling nausea. ‘Nauseous’ means I inspire nausea.”

“Well, the nauseated look on your face is inspiring nausea in me, so both are correct,” Deedee said, smiling.

“Why are you so nervous?” Carol asked.

“I’m not. I’ve just got a sour stomach, that’s all. Am I not allowed to be-”

“Not on your wedding day, y/n. Suck that shit right up and put a smile on your face.”

“My wedding day was two months ago and I-”

“No. That was your marriage date. This is your wedding day,” Carol interrupted. “Now, smile. You get to say ‘I do’ to that man again in a couple hours and we all get to see it this time.”

You took a deep breath and twisted the cap off of the water. You could do this. You could make it through your wedding without throwing up.

Charlie walked in with Cheez-its and a blister pack of small white pills a few minutes later. “Med first, then crackers after.”

“But I’m-” you started to argue.

“Do what I say, woman. I’m Maid of Honor so you gotta listen to me.”

“It’s  _ my _ wedding.”

“And you don’t have the fortitude to go bridezilla on me so take the damn Zofran and you can have the crackers when it kicks in.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled open the pill packet, setting the pill to dissolve on your tongue. When your nausea subsided, you munched on Cheez-its as your sister finished twisting your hair into an elegant updo.

You got your makeup done then your bridesmaids helped you into your dress, pulling your corset tight and tying it behind you in a large bow. When your bridesmaids went to get their dresses on and makeup done, you sat on the edge of a chair and pulled out your phone. A few texts between you and Dean eased your mind. You were only slightly shaking as Charlie handed you a bouquet of red roses and helped you to the entryway of the manor.

Sherry walked out first, dressed in silver, then Deedee in purple. Carol in silver and then Charlie in purple. Your father took hold of your elbow and guided you down the aisle between the rows of chairs leading to the flower-covered archway where Dean was standing with the wedding party and the man he’d chosen to play officiant, Bobby Singer, “the wisest man I know”, according to Dean.

Your husband smiled softly and blinked the happy tears out of his eyes as your father kissed your cheek and rushed away to sit between your mother and Maw-maw in the front row on the left. “You look amazing. If I weren’t already married to you, I’d make you my wife.”

“You didn’t marry me for my looks. That’s  _ my _ line.”

“That’s your  _ lie _ ,” he whispered, smirking.

“You ready, kids?” Bobby asked, softly. You and Dean both nodded without taking your eyes off of each other. Bobby smiled and cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to actually  _ witness _ these two tyin’ the knot, unlike last time when they ran off without tellin’ anybody.”

“Never gonna live that down,” Dean muttered.

“No commentary from the peanut gallery,” Bobby snapped but he had a smirk on his lips. “Now, Dean. Repeat after me: I, Dean, take you, y/n, to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

Dean hummed and licked his lips. “I, Dean, take you, y/n, to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

“To have and to hold.”

“To have and to hold.”

“For better or worse.”

“For better or worse.”

“For richer or poorer.”

“For rich or poor.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“To love and to cherish.”

“To love and cherish.”

“‘Til death do us part.”

“‘Til death do us part.”

Dean stared into your eyes as he spoke and you didn’t relinquish the gaze as you repeated Bobby’s words like a parrot.

“By the power vested in me by absolutely no one ‘cause these idjits had an Elvis impersonator do the legal bit, I pronounce you Man and Wife. Kiss the woman. Reception’s in the backyard. I will see you all at the open bar.” Bobby said over the sound of cell phone camera shutter noises as Dean pressed his lips passionately to yours.

“Can we go home now?” he whispered, smirking as he pulled back slightly.

“You wish. We’ve gotta hang around for the reception, babe.”

“Damn. I was hopin’ we could start the honeymoon, now.” He winked and kissed you again before taking your arm and leading you through the house to the backyard where a half dozen huge circular tables were set up and one long rectangular one, which is where the bridal court sat.

You sipped at your wine as you picked at the chicken on your plate and watched your family and friends enjoying their meals. Dean kept looking over at you, checking in to make sure you were okay. You gave him smiles and reassuring pats of your hand on his.

After about forty-five minutes, Sam stood and cleared his throat. “So, apparently, this is the part of the wedding where I’m supposed to severely damage the image you have of my brother by telling horribly embarrassing stories on him,” he said, stopping to allow a roll of laughter through the party. “But I’m not going to do that, even though I have a printout of his browser history to use as blackmail material at a later date.” Another roll of laughter.

Sam looked down at Dean. “My big brother is one of the most supportive and loving men I have ever met and he is always going to be the man who puts his family first. It’s not an exaggeration for me to say that Dean has saved my life in a hundred ways and more  _ times _ than I can count. I have looked up to him my whole life, even now that I’m taller than him.” You giggled as Dean rolled his eyes, doing nothing to hide his affectionate smile.

“He has always put me first, my whole life. Always puts Adam before him. He’s an amazing son, a  _ perfect _ brother. I cannot wait to see what he does with the titles of ‘husband’ and, eventually, ‘father’.” Tears popped up around your lashes and you grabbed Dean’s hand, kissing his knuckles.

Sam turned his hazels on you. “I know you guys probably know this, but y/n saved my little brother Adam from Hell. She went into a dangerous situation to save a guy she met  _ once _ and not once has she held it against him. She’s brilliant, selfless, and strong and Dean is lucky that he found her before someone else scooped her up. I can’t wait to see what the two of you end up doing with the rest of your lives together.”

Everyone took a drink of their champagne and Charlie stood. “All right, Sasquatch. My turn,” she said, grabbing Sam’s shoulder and urging him back into his seat. “Hey, guys. For Dean’s fam that don’t know me, I’m Charlie. I’m y/n’s bestie. I’ve known her for nine years, she’s known me for ten. That’s an inside joke for the bride and groom.”

You and Dean both let out scoffing chuckles and some folks followed but they definitely didn’t get the joke. “I met y/n in college. Neither of us wanted to live in the dorms so we answered an ad for roommates in this three bed apartment. Our other roommate was a nightmare, but y/n and I got on like Han and Chewie so we found another place that we could afford together and moved the fuck out of the other apartment. One choice put us in a friendship that has been life-changing. Everything in life comes down to choices and y/n is usually super good at those choices. Sometimes she has to go back and try to get the right choice later, but usually...Dean’s the right choice. She had other options, other choices she could make, but choosing Dean put her right where she needed to be.”

Dean squeezed your hand and nodded. “Dean’s the right guy. He gives her a safety and security she never would have gotten from anyone else. I’m not gonna drone on except to say…” She cleared her throat. “Wuv! Twue wuv! That is what bwings us-”

“Sit down, Char. Oh, my god!” you said, giggling. 

Dean looked over at you as Charlie sat down, still holding your hand. “Now?” he asked, quietly. You smiled and nodded. You both stood and Dean cleared his throat. “We have a toast, too, if you all don’t mind. Can, uh, the mother and father of the bride please stand up?”

“Mother and father of the groom, too, please,” you added. John, Kate and your mom and dad stood, looking around a bit confused. “Raise your glasses.”

Everyone raised their glasses and Dean smiled brightly, taking a deep breath. “We would like to propose a toast to the most loving and supportive soon-to-be grandparents anyone could ever hope for.”

Your mother literally squealed, dropping her glass to rush the table and pull you into her arms. “You’re pregnant?!”

You laughed, nodding and pulling back. “Eleven weeks. We were gonna wait until after the first trimester was over, but we couldn’t really resist.”

“Congratulations!” Castiel called down the table.

“Do you wanna boy or a girl?”

“Has the morning sickness started?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Questions in rapid-fire overwhelmed you as people exclaimed at you. Dean put his arm around your shoulders and you relaxed back into him. “You guys can ask all the questions you wanna ask later. She’s off her meds ‘cause they’re teratogenic so you need to respect the PTSS, all right?”

You looked up and gave him a proud smile for remembering the word ‘teratogenic’ before turning to your parents and his, who had all congregated next to the long table. “I’ve got the ultrasound pictures up in my bag. I’ll go get them so you can see later, okay?”

“I’m so happy for the two of you,” John said, smiling. “But, uh, eleven weeks? That puts it before your Vegas trip.”

“Somethin’ wrong with that?” Dean asked.

“Seems like we found out what prompted the elopement,” Kate said, amused. 

“We didn’t know until after we were married, so it wasn’t a shotgun wedding, all right?” Dean defended.

“They’re fuckin’ with us, babe. It’s not a big deal,” you said as Maw-maw shuffled up to the table. “Hi, Maw-maw.”

“Congratulations. Gonna be the smartest of my great-grandkids, by far. Open this,” she said, handing you an ornate envelope of thick paper stock.

You slid your finger along the edge, pulling it open and lifting a card out of it. On it, in Maw-maw’s perfect handwriting, was an address. “It’s an address,” you said, showing the card to your husband, who shrugged.

“ _ Your _ address,” Maw-maw answered the unasked question.

“What?” you asked, not understanding.

“Your assistant told me that you were designing a house. I had it built for you.”

“What?!” This one was a shout of surprise. “I can’t-”

“I’m sorry, you built us a house, Maw-maw?” Dean’s eyebrows came together in confusion.

“You wouldn’t let me pay for the wedding, so I built you a house. Had Ted’s main competitor build it so everything’s on the up-and-up. It’s really very pretty. You did a fine job designing it.”

Your jaw hung open as you looked from your grandmother to the card. The address was in Clarendon Hills, a small but beautiful and well-off suburb of Chicago. “Maw-maw, I...how...wh-”

“Gonna need all the room you can get for that kiddo and when you go into the nesting phase, you’re gonna want a place that’s actually yours.”

“I, we-we can’t acce-”

“Young lady, if you try to deny this gift, I’m going to be very pissed off.”

Dean put his hand on your shoulder and sighed. “I don’t think she’s trying to deny the gift, Maw-maw, but… I mean, a house, a custom-made house in Clarendon Hills, that…that couldn’t have been cheap.”

“It wasn’t. It was about half a mil more than if she’d let me pay for the damn wedding, but I warned her, Maw-maw always gets what she wants in the end.” She reached over and patted your shoulder. Your eyes snapped up to hers and you tried to blink away overwhelmed tears. “I got more money than I need. Don’t worry about that, girlie. I’ll send the keys to you and Dean’s apartment, you can give it a look-see when you get back from your honeymoon.”

“Maw-maw,” you handed the card to Dean and wrapped your arms around the old woman, letting loose the tears you’d been holding back into her sweater. “Thank you so much! This is so...I don’t deserve th-”

“Oh, shut the hell up. You deserve nice things. You deserve everything...and Maw-maw will provide as much of that as she can for you and that baby boy or girl.” You pulled back and nodded, wiping at your eyes. “I love you, girl. Now, go sit down. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

You sniffled and sat down, picking up the card and looking at it. “We have a home.” Dean chuckled and pressed his lips to your cheek. 

“Wherever you are is my home, princess.”

“Cheesy,” you accused.

“Just for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn’t believe your luck. As you unclicked the carseat from its base in the back of the Impala, watching as Dean did the same on the driver’s side of the car, you felt like your home was finally complete. As exhausted as you were after a thirty-two hour labor, you were happier than you could remember being. 

“You want me to grab him? You get the door?” Dean offered, setting the pink and purple seat next to the blue and brown one and offering you the keys. You nodded and snatched the keys, walking to the door in almost a waddle. “When are you gonna stop the penguin walk?”

“As soon as my vagina stops hurting!” you called back. He laughed, loudly, as you put the key in the door and twisted. “Hey! Don’t laugh at me! I just pushed a 10lb and an 8lb kid out of there, dude. It hurts.”

“10 and 7 and a half pounds. Don’t be giving the boy a weight complex already. He’s not even two days old yet,” he said, chuckling.

“Marty is not going to get a weight complex, oh my god, Dean,” you groaned, walking up the stairs to the nursery. “Can I just sleep for, like, a week?”

“If you trust me to keep Melody and Marty alive while you play Rip Van Winkle, sure. I mean, I can just put them near your tits and they’ll figure out how to get food, right?” He smirked as you dropped down to sit in the plush rocking chair.

“No. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy, especially at the beginning. I have to be present. Boo.”

“Well, they’re still asleep from the car ride, so why don’t we curl up on the couch and get some rest until they wake up? Sound good?”

“Sounds amazing.” He helped you out of the rocking chair and you shuffled across the room to lay on the couch. Dean pulled you into his arms and pressed his lips to the top of your head. You hummed in appreciation as you relaxed into him. You smiled as your eyes fell on the wall over the cribs where the words ‘Melody Mary Winchester’ and ‘Martin Harrison Winchester’ were perfectly painted in purple and red.

“Hey. You happy, princess?” Dean’s words were soft, his breathing slow, his question a flash of doubt in his sleep-deprived brain.

“Yeah, D. This is a wish come true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks!


End file.
